LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


DELIVERED  AT  PLYMOUTH, 

•V 

DECEMBER  22,  1820. 

«n  Commemoration  of 

THE   FIRST 

SETTLEMENT  OF  NEW-ENGLAND. 


BY 

D./UVIEL,    WEBSTER. 


THIRD    EDITION'. 

OP  THK 

UNIVERSITY 


BOSTON : 

WELLS    AXD    LILLY, — COURT-STREET. 

1825. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT: 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  that  on  the  twentieth  day  of  December  A.  D.  1821,  in  the  forty  sixth 
yeai  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  Wells  &  Lilly  of  the  said  District, 
have  deposited  in  this  Office  the  title  of  a  Book,  the  Right  whereof  they  claim  as  Proprietors, 
in  the  Words  following,  to  wit  .— 

"  A  Discourse,  delivered  at  Plymouth,  December  22,  1 820.  In  commemoration  of  the  First 
Settlement  of  New  England.  By  Daniel  Webster." 

In  Conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled.  "  An  Act  for  the 
Encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  Maps.  Charts  and  Books,  to  the  Au 
thors  and  Proprietors  of  such  Copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  :"  and  also  to  an  Act 
entitled,  '*  An  Act  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled.  An  Act  for  the  Encouragement  of 
Learning,  by  securing  the  Copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  Authors  and  Proprietor* 
of  such  Copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  :  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the 
Arts  of  Designing,  Engraving,  and  Etching  Historical  and  other  Prints  " 

JNO  W.DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


PLYMOUTH,  Dec.  23,  1820. 

HON.  DANIEL  WEBSTER, 
SIR, 

AT  a  meeting  of  the  Trustees  of  the  PILGRIM  SOCIETY,  present, 
John  Watson,  William  Davis,  James  Sever,  Alden  Bradford,  Barnabas 
Hc.dge,  Thomas  Jackson,  Jr.  and  Zabdiel  Sampson,  Esquires,  VOTED, 
"  That  the  thanks  of  the  Trustees  be  presented  to  the  HON.  DANIEL 
WEBSTER,  for  his  eloquent  and  interesting  DISCOURSE,  delivered  at 
Plymouth,  on  the  22d  instant,  at  their  request,  in  commemoration  of 
the  completion  of  the  second  century  since  the  settlement  of  Neic  Eng 
land — that  he  be  requested  to  furnish  a  copy  for  publication — and  that 
the  Corresponding  Secretary  communicate  the  preceding  vote." 

While  in  the  performance  of  this  duty,  as  honorable  as  it  is  pleasing, 
I  am  directed  to  subjoin,  that  the  Committee  of  the  Massachusetts  His 
torical  Society,  and  of  the  American  Antiquarian  Society,  who  attended 
on  tkis  occasion,  by  invitation,  unite  in  the  request. 

With  great  esteem  and  regard, 
I  am,  Sir, 

Very  Respectfully, 

SAMUEL  DAVIS, 

Corresponding  Secretary  of  the  Pilgrim  Society. 


BOSTON,  Dec.  26,  1820. 

SIR, 

I  HAVE  received  yours  of  the  23d,  communicating  the  request  of  the 
Trustees  of  the  Pilgrim  Society,  and  of  the  Committee  of  the  Historical 
and  Antiquarian  Societies,  that  a  copy  of  my  Discourse  may  be  furnish 
ed  for  the  press.  I  shall  cheerfully  comply  with  this  request ;  but  at  the 
same  time  I  must  add,  that  such  is  the  nature  of  my  other  engagements, 
that  I  hope  I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  should  be  compelled  to  postpone 
this  compliance  to  a  more  distant  day  than  I  could  otherwise  have 
wished. 

I  am,  Sir,  with  true  regard, 

Your  most  obedient  Servant, 

DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

To  SAMUEL  DAVIS,  Esq. 
Corresponding  Secretary  of  the  Pilgrim  Society. 


LET  us  rejoice  that  we  behold  this  day.  Let  us  be 
thankful  that  we  have  lived  to  see  the  bright  and 
happy  breaking  of  the  auspicious  morn,  which  com 
mences  the  third  century  of  the  history  of  New- 
England.  Auspicious  indeed ;  bringing  a  happiness 
beyond  the  common  allotment  of  Providence  to  men; 
full  of  present  joy,  and  gilding  with  bright  beams 
the  prospect  of  futurity,  is  the  dawn,  that  awakens 
us  to  the  commemoration  of  the  Landing  of  the 
Pilgrims. 

Living  at  an  epoch  which  naturally  marks  the 
progress  of  the  history  of  our  native  land,  we  have 
come  hither  to  celebrate  the  great  event  with 
which  that  history  commenced.  Forever  honoured 
be  this,  the  place  of  our  fathers'  refuge  !  Forever 
remembered  the  day  which  saw  them,  weary  and 
distressed,  broken  in  every  thing  but  spirit,  poor  in 
all  but  faith  and  courage,  at  last  secure  from  the 
dangers  of  wintry  seas,  and  impressing  this  shore 
with  the  first  footsteps  of  civilized  man! 


It  is  a  noble  faculty  of  our  nature  which  enables 
us  to  connect  our  thoughts,  our  sympathies,  and  our 
happiness,  with  what  is  distant  in  place  or  time  ; 
and,  looking  before  and  after,  to  hold  communion  at 
once  with  our  ancestors  and  our  posterity.  Human 
and  mortal  although  we  are,  we  are  nevertheless 
not  mere  insulated  beings,  without  relation  to  the 
past  or  the  future.  Neither  the  point  of  time,  nor 
the  spot  of  earth,  in  which  we  physically  live, 
bounds  our  rational  and  intellectual  enjoyments. 
We  live  in  the  past  by  a  knowledge  of  its  history ; 
and  in  the  future  by  hope  and  anticipation.  By 
ascending  to  an  association  with  our  ancestors ;  by 
contemplating  their  example  and  studying  their  char 
acter;  by  partaking  their  sentiments,  and  imbibing 
their  spirit ;  by  accompanying  them  in  their  toils,  by 
sympathising  in  their  sufferings,  and  rejoicing  in 
their  successes  and  their  triumphs,  we  mingle  our 
own  existence  with  theirs,  and  seem  to  belong  to 
their  age.  We  become  their  contemporaries,  live 
the  lives  which  they  lived,  endure  what  they  en 
dured,  and  partake  in  the  rewards  which  they  en 
joyed.  And  in  like  manner,  by  running  along  the 
line  of  future  time,  by  contemplating  the  probable 
fortunes  of  those  who  are  coming  after  us ;  by  at 
tempting  something  which  may  promote  their  hap 
piness,  and  leave  some  not  dishonourable  memorial 
of  ourselves  for  their  regard  when  we  shall  sleep 
with  the  fathers,  we  protract  our  own  earthly 
being,  and  seem  to  crowd  whatever  is  future,  as 


well  as  all  that  is  past,  into  the  narrow  compass  of 
our  earthly  existence.  As  it  is  not  a  vain  and  false, 
but  an  exalted  and  religious  imagination,  which  leads 
us  to  raise  our  thoughts  from  the  orb,  which,  amidst 
this  universe  of  worlds,  the  Creator  has  given  us  to 
inhabit,  arid  to  send  them  with  something  of  the 
feeling  which  nature  prompts,  and  teaches  to  be 
proper  among  children  of  the  same  Eternal  Parent, 
to  the  contemplation  of  the  myriads  of  fellow  beings, 
with  which  his  goodness  has  peopled  the  infinite  of 
space ; — so  neither  is  it  false  or  vain  to  consider 
ourselves  as  interested  and  connected  with  our  whole 
race,  through  all  time  ;  allied  to  our  ancestors  ;  allied 
to  our  posterity ;  closely  compacted  on  all  sides  with 
others ;  ourselves  being  but  links  in  the  great  chain 
of  being,  which  begins  with  the  origin  of  our  race, 
runs  onward  through  its  successive  generations,  bind 
ing  together  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future, 
and  terminating  at  last,  with  the  consummation  of 
all  things  earthly,  at  the  throne  of  God. 

There  may  be,  and  there  often  is,  indeed,  a  re 
gard  for  ancestry,  which  nourishes  only  a  weak 
pride ;  as  there  is  also  a  care  for  posterity,  which 
only  disguises  an  habitual  avarice,  or  hides  the 
workings  of  a  low  and  grovelling  vanity.  But  there 
is  also  a  moral  and  philosophical  respect  for  our 
ancestors,  which  elevates  the  character  and  im 
proves  the  heart.  Next  to  the  sense  of  religious 
duty  and  moral  feeling,  I  hardly  know  what  should 
bear  with  stronger  obligation  on  a  liberal  and  en- 


lightened  mind,  than  a  consciousness  of  alliance  with 
excellence  which  is  departed  ;  and  a  consciousness^ 
too,  that  in  its  acts  and  conduct,  and  even  in  its  senti 
ments  and  thoughts,  it  may  be  actively  operating  on 
the  happiness  of  those  who  come  after  it.  Poetry 
is  found  to  have  few  stronger  conceptions,  by  which 
it  would  affect  or  overwhelm  the  mind,  than  those 
in  which  it  presents  the  moving  and  speaking  image 
of  the  departed  dead  to  the  senses  of  the  living. 
This  belongs  to  poetry,  only  because  it  is  congenial 
to  our  nature.  Poetry  is,  in  this  respect,  but  the 
hand-maid  of  true  philosophy  and  morality ;  it  deals 
with  us  as  human  beings,  naturally  reverencing  those 
whose  visible  connexion  with  this  state  of  existence 
is  severed,  and  who  may  yet  exercise  we  know  not 
what  sympathy  with  ourselves ; — and  when  it  car 
ries  us  forward,  also,  and  shows  us  the  long  continued 
result  of  all  the  good  we  do,  in  the  prosperity  of 
those  who  follow  us,  till  it  bears  us  from  ourselves, 
and  absorbs  us  in  an  intense  interest  for  what  shall 
happen  to  the  generations  after  us,  it  speaks  only  in 
the  language  of  our  nature,  and  affects  us  with 
sejaftiments  which  belong  to  us  as  human  beings. 

Standing  in  this  relation  to  our  ancestors  and  our 
posterity,  we  are  assembled  on  this  memorable  spot, 
to  perform  the  duties,  which  that  relation  and  the 
present  occasion  impose  upon  us.  We,Jfave  come 
to  this  Rock,  to  record  here  oujxfibmage  for  our 
Pilgrim  Fathers;  our  sympathy  in  their  sufferings; 
our  gratitude  for  their  labours ;  our  admiration  of 


9 


their  virtues  ;  our  veneration^for  their  piety:  and 
our  attachment  to  those  principles  of  civil  and  reli 
gious  liberty,  which  they  encountered  the  dangers 
of  the  ocean,  the  storms  of  heaven,  the  violence  of 
savages,  disease,  exile,  and  famine,  to  enjoy  and  to 
establish.  —  ?And  we  would  leave  here,  also,  for  the 
generations  which  are  rising  up  rapidly  to  fill  our 
places,  some  proof,  that  we  have  endeavoured  to 
transmit  the  great  inheritance  unimpaired;  that  in 
our  estimate  of  public  principles,  and  private  virtue; 
in  our  veneration  of  religion  and  piety  ;  in  our  devo 
tion  to  civil  and  religious  liberty  ;  in  our  regard  to 
whatever  advances  human  knowledge,  or  improves 
human  happiness,  we  are  not  altogether  unworthy 
of  our  origin. 

There  is  a  local  feeling,  connected  with  this  occa 
sion,  too  strong  to  be  resisted  ;  a  sort  of  genius  of  the 
place,  which  inspires  and  awes  us.  We  feel  that  we 
are  on  the  spot,  where  the  first  scene  of  our  history 
was  laid;  where  the  hearths  and  altars  of  New-En 
gland  were  first  placed  ;  where  Christianity,  and  ci 
vilization,  and  letters  made  their  first  lodgment,  in  a 
vast  extent  of  country,  covered  with  a  wilderness, 
and  peopled  by  roving  barbarians.  We  are  here, 
at  the  season  of  the  year  at  which  the  event  took 
place.  The  imagination  irresistibly  and  rapidly 
draws  around  us  the  principal  features,  and  the  lead 
ing  characters  in  the  original  scene.  We  cast  our 
eyes  abroad  on  the  ocean,  and  we  see  where  the 
little  barque,  with  the  interesting  group  upon  its 


OF  ' 

'          . 


10 

deck,  made  its  slow  progress  to  the  shore.  We 
look  around  us,  and  behold  the  hills  and  promonto 
ries,  where  the  anxious  eyes  of  our  fathers  first  saw 
the  places  of  habitation  and  of  rest.  We  feel  the 
cold  which  benumbed,  and  listen  to  the  winds  which 
pierced  them.  Beneath  us  is  the  Rock,  on  which 
New-England  received  the  feet  of  the  Pilgrims. 
We  seem  even  to  behold  them,  as  they  struggle 
with  the  elements,  and,  with  toilsome  efforts  gain 
the  shore.  We  listen  to  the  chiefs  in  council;  we 
see  the  unexampled  exhibition  of  female  fortitude 
and  resignation ;  we  hear  the  whisperings  of  youth 
ful  impatience,  and  we  see,  what  a  painter  of  our 
own  has  also  represented  by  his  pencil,  chilled  and 
shivering  childhood,  houseless,  but  for  a  mother's 
arms,  couchless,  but  for  a  mother's  breast,  till  our 
own  blood  almost  freezes.  The  mild  dignity  of  CAR 
VER  and  of  BRADFORD  ;  the  decisive  and  soldier-like 
air  and  manner  of  STANDISH  ;  the  devout  BKEWSTER; 
the  enterprising  ALLERTON  ;  the  general  firmness  and 
thoughtfulness  of  the  whole  band ;  their  conscious 
joy  for  dangers  escaped  ;  their  deep  solicitude  about 
dangers  to  come  ;  their  trust  in  heaven;  their  high 
religious  faith,  full  of  confidence  and  anticipation  : — 
all  these  seem  to  belong  to  this  place,  and  to  be 
present  upon  this  occasion,  to  fill  us  with  reverence 
and  admiration. 

The  settlement  of  New-England  by  the  colony 
which  landed  here  on  the  twenty  second  of  Decem 
ber,  sixteen  hundred  and  twenty,  although  not  the 


11 

first  European  establishment  in  what  now  constitutes 
the  United  States,  was  jet  so  peculiar  in  its  causes 
and  character,  arid  has  been  followed,  and  must  still 
be  followed,  by  such  consequences,  as  to  give  it  a 
high  claim  to  lasting  commemoration.  On  these 
causes  and  consequences,  more  than  on  its  immedi 
ately  attendant  circumstances,  its  importance  as  an 
historical  event  depends.  Great  actions  and  striking- 
occurrences,  having  excited  a  temporary  admiration, 
often  pass  away  and  are  forgotten,  because  they 
leave  no  lasting  results,  affecting  the  prosperity  and 
happiness  of  communities.  Such  is  frequently  the 
fortune  of  the  most  brilliant  military  achievements. 
Of  the  ten  thousand  battles  which  have  been  fought; 
of  all  the  fields  fertilized  with  carnage  ;  of  the  ban 
ners  which  have  been  bathed  in  blood  ;  of  the  war 
riors  who  have  hoped  that  they  had  risen  from  the 
field  of  conquest  to  a  glory  as  bright  and  as  durable 
as  the  stars,  how  few  that  continue  long  to  interest 
mankind  !  The  victory  of  yesterday  is  reversed  by 
the  defeat  of  to-day  ;  the  star  of  military  glory,  ris 
ing  like  a  meteor,  like  a  meteor  has  fallen;  disgrace 
and  disaster  hang  on  the  heels  of  conquest  and  re 
nown  ;  victor  arid  vanquished  presently  pass  away  to 
oblivion,  and  the  world  goes  on  in  its  course,  with 
the  loss  only  of  so  many  lives  and  so  much  treasure. 

But  if  this  be  frequently,  or  generally,  the  fortune 
of  military  achievements,  it  is  not  always  so.  There 
are  enterprises,  military  as  well  as  civil,  which  some 
times  check  the  current  of  events,  give  a  new  turn 


12 

to  human    affairs,  and   transmit   their  consequences 
through  ages.      We  see  their  importance  in  their  re 
sults,  and  call    them  great,   because  great  things  fol 
low.     There  have  been  battles  which  have  fixed  the 
fate  of  nations.     These  come  down   to  us  in  history 
with  a  solid  and  permanent  interest,  not  cieated  by  a 
display  of  glittering  armour,  the  rush  of  adverse  bat 
talions,    the  sinking  and  rising  of  pennons,  the  flight, 
the  pursuit,  and   the  victory  ;  but  by  their  effect  in 
advancing  or   retarding  human  knowledge,  in  over 
throwing  or  establishing  despotism,  in  extending  or 
destroying  human   happiness.  \When    the  traveller 
pauses  on  the  plain  of  Marathon,  what  are  the  emo 
tions  which  most  strongly  agitate  his  breast?    What 
is  that   glorious  recollection,   which   thrills  through 
his   frame,  and   suffuses  his  eyes? — Not,  I  imagine, 
that  Grecian  skill    and    Grecian  valour  were  here 
most    signally    displayed  ;    but   that  Greece  herself 
was  here  saved.     It  is  because  to  this  spot,  and  to  the 
event  which  has  rendered  it  immortal,  he  refers  all 
the  succeeding  glories  of  the  republic.     It  is  because 
if  that  day  had  gone  otherwise,  Greece  had  perished. 
It  is  because  he  perceives    that    her   philosophers, 
and  orators,   her  poets    and  painters,   her  sculptors 
and  architects,  her  governments  and  free  institutions, 
point  backward  to  Marathon,  and  that  their  future 
existence  seems  to  have  been  suspended  on  the  con 
tingency,  whether    the  Persian  or  the  Grecian  ban-? 
ner  should  wave  victorious  in    the  beams    of  that 
day's  setting  sun.     And  as  his  imagination  kindles  at 


13 

the  retrospect,  he  is  transported  back  to  the  inter 
esting  moment,  he  counts  the  fearful  odds  of  the  con 
tending  hosts,  his  interest  for  the  result  overwhelms 
him;  he  trembles,  as  if  it  were  still  uncertain,  and 
seems  to  doubt,  whether  he  may  consider  Socrates 
and  Plato,  Demosthenes,  Sophocles  and  Phidias,  as 
secure,  yet,  to  himself  and  to  the  world. 

"  If  we  conquer,"  said  the  Athenian  commander 
on  the  morning  of  that  decisive  day, — "  If  we  con 
quer,  we  shall  make  Athens  the  greatest  city  of 
Greece."  A  prophecy,  how  well  fulfilled  ! — "  If 
God  prosper  us,"  might  have  been  the  more  appro 
priate  language  of  our  Fathers,  when  they  landed 
upon  this  Rock, — "if  God  prosper  us,  we  shall  here 
begin  a  work  which  shall  last  for  ages;  we  shall 
plant  here  a  new  society,  in  the  principles  of  the  ful 
lest  liberty,  and  the  purest  religion:  we  shall  subdue 
this  wilderness  which  is  before  us  ;  we  shall  fill  this 
region  of  the  great  continent,  which  stretches  al 
most  from  pole  to  pole,  with  civilization  and  Chris 
tianity  ;  the  temples  of  the  true  God  shall  rise, 
where  now  ascends  the  smoke  of  idolatrous  sacrifice ; 
fields  and  gardens,  the  flowers  of  summer,  and  the 
waving  and  golden  harvests  of  autumn,  shall  extend 
over  a  thousand  hills,  and  stretch  along  a  thousand 
vallies,  never  yet,  since  the  creation,  reclaimed  to 
the  use  of  civilized  man.  We  shall  whiten  this  coast 
with  the  canvas  of  a  prosperous  commerce;  we  shall 
stud  the  long  and  winding  shore  with  an  hundred 
cities.  That  which  we  sow  in  weakness  shall 


14 

be  raised  in  strength.  From  our  sincere  but  house 
less  worship,  there  shall  spring  splendid  temples  to 
record  God's  goodness ;  from  the  simplicity  of  our 
social  union,  there  shall  arise  wise  and  politic  consti 
tutions  of  government,  full  of  the  liberty  which  we 
ourselves  bring  and  breathe ;  from  our  zeal  for 
learning,  institutions  shall  spring,  which  shall  scatter 
the  light  of  knowledge  throughout  the  land,  and,  in 
time,  paying  back  where  they  have  borrowed,  shall 
contribute  their  part  to  the  great  aggregate  of  hu 
man  knowledge  ;  and  our  descendants,  through  all 
generations,  shall  look  back  to  this  spot,  and  to  this 
hour,  with  unabated  affection  and  regard." 

A  brief  remembrance  of  the  causes  which  led  to 
the  settlement  of  this  place  ;  some  account  of  the 
peculiarities  and  characteristic  qualities  of  that  set 
tlement,  as  distinguished  from  other  instances  of  co 
lonization  ;  a  short  notice  of  the  progress  of  New- 
England  in  the  great  interests  of  Society,  during  the 
century  which  is  now  elapsed  ;  with  a  few  observa 
tions  on  the  principles  upon  which  society  and  gov 
ernment  are  established  in  this  country; — comprise 
all  that  can  be  attempted,  and  much  more  than  can 
be  satisfactorily  performed  on  the  present  occasion. 

Of  the  motives  which  influenced  the  first  settlers 
to  a  voluntary  exile,  induced  them  to  relinquish  their 
native  country,  and  to  seek  an  asylum  in  this  then 
unexplored  wilderness,  the  first  and  principal,  no 
doubt,  were  connected  with  Religion.  They  sought 
to  enjoy  a  higher  degree  of  Religious  freedom,  and 


15 

what  they  esteemed  a  purer  form  of  Religious  wor 
ship,  than  was  allowed  to  their  choice,  or  presented 
to  their  imitation,  in  the  old  world.  The  love  of 
Religious  Liberty  is  a  stronger  sentiment,  when  fully 
excited,  than  an  attachment  to  civil  or  political  free 
dom.  That  freedom  which  the  conscience  demands, 
and  which  men  feel  bound  by  their  hopes  of  salva 
tion  to  contend  for,  can  hardly  fail  to  be  attained. 
Conscience,  in  the  cause  of  Religion,  and  the  wor 
ship  of  the  Deity,  prepares  the  mind  to  act,  and  to 
suffer  beyond  almost  all  other  causes.  It  sometimes 
gives  an  impulse  so  irresistible,  that  no  fetters  of 
power  or  of  opinion  can  withstand  it.  History  in 
structs  us  that  this  love  of  Religious  liberty,  a  com 
pound  sentiment  in  the  breast  of  man,  made  up  of 
the  clearest  sense  of  right,  and  the  highest  convic 
tion  of  duty,  is  able  to  look  the  sternest  despotism 
in  the  face,  and  with  means  apparently  most  inade 
quate,  to  shake  principalities  and  powers.  There 
is  a  boldness,  a  spirit  of  daring,  in  religious  reform 
ers,  not  to  be  measured  by  the  general  rules  which 
controul  men's  purposes  and  actions.  If  the  hand  of 
power  be  laid  upon  it,  this  only  seems  to  augment 
its  force  and  its  elasticity,  and  to  cause  its  action  to 
be  more  formidable  and  terrible.  Human  invention 
has  devised  nothing,  human  power  has  compassed 
nothing  that  can  forcibly  restrain  it,  when  it  breaks 
forth.  Nothing  can  stop  it,  but  to  give  way  to  it ; 
nothing  can  check  it,  but  indulgence.  It  loses  its 
power  only  when  it  has  gained  its  object.  The 


J6 

i 
principle  of  toleration,  to  which  the  world  has  come 

so  slowly,  is  at  once  the  most  just  and  the  most  wise 
of  all  principles.  Even  when  religious  feeling  takes 
a  character  of  extravagance  and  enthusiasm,  and 
seems  to  threaten  the  order  of  society,  and  shake 
the  columns  of  the  social  edifice,  its  principal  danger 
is  in  its  restraint.  If  it  be  allowed  indulgence  and 
expansion,  like  the  elemental  fires  it  only  agitates 
and  perhaps  purifies  the  atmosphere,  while  its  ef 
forts  to  throw  off  restraint  would  burst  the  world 
asunder. 

It  is  certain,  that  although  many  of  them  were 
republicans  in  principle,  we  have  no  evidence  that 
our  New-England  ancestors  would  have  emigrated, 
as  they  did,  from  their  own  native  country,  become 
wanderers  in  Europe,  and  finally  undertaken  the 
establishment  of  a  colony  here,  merely  from  their 
dislike  of  the  political  systems  of  Europe.  They 
fled  not  so  much  from  the  civil  government,  as  from 
the  Hierarchy,  and  the  laws  which  enforced  con 
formity  to  the  Church  Establishment.  Mr.  Robin 
son  had  left  England  as  early  as  sixteen  hundred  and 
eight,  on  account  of  the  prosecutions  for  non-con 
formity,  and  had  retired  to  Holland.  He  left  Eng 
land,  from  no  disappointed  ambition  in  affairs  of 
state,  from  no  regrets  at  the  want  of  preferment  in 
the  church,  nor  from  any  motive  of  distinction,  or  of 
gain.  Uniformity  in  matters  of  Religion  was  press 
ed  with  such  extreme  rigour,  that  a  voluntary  exile 
seemed  the  most  eligible  mode  of  escaping  from  the 


17 

penalties  of  non-compliance.  The  accession  of  Eli 
zabeth  had,  it  is  true,  quenched  the  fires  of  Smith- 
field,  and  put  an  end  to  the  easy  acquisition  of  the 
crown  of  martyrdom.  Her  long  reign  had  estab 
lished  the  Reformation,  but  toleration  was  a  virtue 
beyond  her  conception,  and  beyond  the  age.  She 
left  no  example  of  it  to  her  successor;  and  he  was 
not  of  a  character  which  rendered  it  probable  that 
a  sentiment  either  so  wise  or  so  liberal  should  ori 
ginate  with  him.  At  the  present  period  it  seems 
incredible,  that  the  learned,  accomplished,  unassum 
ing,  and  inoffensive  Robinson  should  neither  be  tol 
erated  in  his  own  peaceable  mode  of  worship,  in  his 
own  country,  nor  suffered  quietly  to  depart  from  it. 
Yet  such  was  the  fact.  He  left  his  country  by 
stealth,  that  he  might  elsewhere  enjoy  those  rights 
which  ought  to  belong  to  men  in  all  countries.  The 
embarkation  of  the  Pilgrims  for  Holland  is  deeply 
interesting  from  its  circumstances,  and  also  as  it 
marks  the  character  of  the  times;  independently  of 
its  connexion  with  names  now  incorporated  with  the 
history  of  empire.  The  embarkation  was  intended 
to  be  in  the  night,  that  it  might  escape  the  notice  of 
the  officers  of  government.  Great  pains  had  been 
taken  to  secure  boats,  which  should  come  undiscov 
ered  to  the  shore,  and  receive  the  fugitives ;  and 
frequent  disappointments  had  been  experienced  in 
this  respect.  At  length  the  appointed  time  came, 
bringing  with  it  unusual  severity  of  cold  and  rain. 
An  unfrequented  and  barren  heath,  on  the  shores  of 
3 


18 

Lincolnshire,  was  the  selected  spot,  where  the  feet 
of  the  Pilgrims  were  to  tread,  for  the  last  time,  the 
land  of  their  fathers. 

The  vessel   which  was  to  receive  them  did  not 
come  until  the  next  day,  and  in  the  mean  time  the 
little  band  was  collected,  and  men  arid  women  and 
children    and   baggage    were   crowded    together,   in 
melancholy  and   distressed  confusion.     The  sea  was 
rough,  and   the   women   and  children  already  sick, 
from  their  passage  down  the,  river  to  the  place  of 
embarcation.     At  length  the  wished  for  boat  silently 
and   fearfully  approaches   the  shore,  and   men  and 
women  and   children,   shaking  with   fear   and   with 
cold,  as  many  as  the  small  vessel  could  bear,  venture 
off  on  a  dangerous  sea.     Immediately  the  advance  of 
horses  is  heard  from  behind,  armed  men  appear,  and 
those  not   yet  embarked  are  seized,  and   taken  into 
custody.     In  the  hurry  of  the  moment,   there   had 
been  no  regard  to  the  keeping  together  of  families, 
in  the  first  embarcation,  and   on  account  of  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  horsemen,  the  boat  never  returned 
for  the    residue.     Those   who   had   got   away,   and 
those  who  had  not,  were  in  equal  distress.     A  storm, 
of  great  violence  and  long  duration,  arose  at  sea,  which 
not  only  protracted  the  voyage,  rendered  distressing 
by   the   want  of  all    those   accommodations    which 
the  interruption  of  the  embarcation  had  occasioned, 
but  also  forced    the   vessel  out  of  her  course,   and 
menaced  immediate  shipwreck ;  while  those  on  shore, 
when  they  were  dismissed  from  the  custody  of  the 


19 

officers  of  justice,  having  no  longer  homes  or  houses 
to  retire  to,  and  their  friends  and  protectors  being 
already  gone,  became  objects  of  necessary  charity 
as  well  as  of  deep  commiseration. 

As  this  scene  passes  before  us,  we  can  hardly  for 
bear  asking,  whether  this  be  a  band  of  malefactors 
and  felons  flying  from  justice  ?  What  are  their 
crimes,  that  they  hide  themselves  in  darkness  ! — To 
what  punishment  are  they  exposed,  that  to  avoid  it, 
men,  and  women,  and  children,  thus  encounter  the 
surf  of  the  North  Sea,  and  the  terrors  of  a  night 
storm?  What  induces  this  armed  pursuit,  and  this 
arrest  of  fugitives,  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes  ? — 
Truth  does  not  allow  us  to  answer  these  inquiries,  in  a 
manner  that  does  credit  to  the  wisdom  or  the  justice 
of  the  times.  This  was  not  the  flight  of  guilt,  but 
of  virtue.  It  was  an  humble  and  peaceable  religion, 
flying  from  causeless  oppression.  It  was  conscience, 
attempting  to  escape  from  the  arbitrary  rule  of  the 
Stuarts.  It  was  Robinson,  and  Brewster,  leading  off 
their  little  band  from  their  native  soil,  at  first  to  find 
shelter  on  the  shores  of  the  neighbouring  continent, 
but  ultimately  to  come  hither  ;  and  having  sur 
mounted  all  difficulties,  and  braved  a  thousand  dan 
gers,  to  find  here  a  place  of  refuge  and  of  rest. 
Thanks  be  to  God,  that  this  spot  was  honoured  as 
the  asylum  of  religious  liberty.  May  its  standard, 
reared  here,  remain  forever! — May  it  rise  up  as 
high  as  heaven,  till  its  banner  shall  fan  the  air  of 
both  continents,  and  wave  as  a  glorious  ensign  of 
peace  and  security  to  the  nations ! 


20 

The  peculiar  character,  condition,  and  circum 
stances  of  the  colonies  which  introduced  civilization 
and  an  English  race  into  New-England,  afford  a  most 
interesting  and  extensive  topic  of  discussion.  On 
these  much  of  our  subsequent  character  and  fortune 
has  depended.  Their  influence  has  essentially  af 
fected  our  whole  history,  through  the  two  centuries 
which  have  elapsed ;  and  as  they  have  become 
intimately  connected  with  government,  laws,  and 
property,  as  well  as  with  our  opinions  on  the  subjects 
of  religion  and  civil  liberty,  that  influence  is  likely 
to  continue  to  be  felt  through  the  centuries  which 
shall  succeed.  Emigration  from  one  region  to  anoth 
er,  and  the  emission  of  colonies  to  people  countries 
more  or  less  distant  from  the  residence  of  the  pa 
rent  stock,  are  common  incidents  in  the  history  of 
mankind ;  but  it  has  not  often,  perhaps  never  hap 
pened,  that  the  establishment  of  colonies  should  be 
attempted,  under  circumstances,  however  beset  with 
present  difficulties  and  dangers,  yet  so  favourable  to 
ultimate  success,  and  so  conducive  to  magnificent  re 
sults,  as  those  which  attended  the  first  settlements 
on  this  part  of  the  continent.  In  other  instances, 
emigration  has  proceeded  from  a  less  exalted  pur 
pose,  in  a  period  of  less  general  intelligence,  or 
more  without  plan  and  by  accident ;  or  under  cir 
cumstances,  physical  and  moral,  less  favourable  to 
the  expectation  of  laying  a  foundation  for  great 
public  prosperity  and  future  empire. 

A  great  resemblance  exists,   obviously,  between 


21 

all  the  English  colonies,  established  within  the  pre 
sent  limits  of  the  United  States ;  but  the  occasion 
attracts  our  attention  more  immediately  to  those 
which  took  possession  of  New- England,  and  the  pe 
culiarities  of  these  furnish  a  strong  contrast  with 
most  other  instances  of  colonization. 

Among  the  ancient  nations,  the  Greeks,  no  doubt, 
sent  forth  from  their  territories  the  greatest  number 
of  colonies.  So  numerous  indeed  were  they,  and  so 
great  the  extent  of  space  over  which  they  were 
spread,  that  the  parent  country  fondly  and  naturally 
persuaded  herself,  that  by  means  of  them  she  had 
laid  a  sure  foundation  for  the  universal  civilization 
of  the  world.  These  establishments,  from  obvious 
causes,  were  most  numerous  in  places  most  contiguous; 
yet  they  were  found  on  the  coasts  of  France, -on  the 
shores  of  the  Euxine  sea*  in  Africa,  and  even,  as  is 
alleged,  on  the  borders  of  India.  |  These  emigra 
tions  appear  to  have  been  sometimes  voluntary  and 
sometimes  compulsory;  arising  from  the  spontaneous 
enterprise  of  individuals,  or  the  order  and  regulation 
of  government.  It  was  a  common  opinion  with  an 
cient  writers,  that  they  were  undertaken  in  religious 
obedience  to  the  commands  of  oracles ;  and  it  is 
probable  that  impressions  of  this  sort  might  have 
had  more  or  less  influence  ;  but  it  is  probable,  also, 
that  on  these  occasions  the  oracles  did  not  speak  a 
language  dissonant  from  the  views  and  purposes  of 
the  state. 

Political  science  among  the  Greeks  seems  never 


22 

to  have  extended  to  the  comprehension  of  a  system, 
which  should  be  adequate  to  the  government  of  a 
great  nation  upon  principles  of  liberty.  They  were 
accustomed  only  to  the  contemplation  of  small  re 
publics,  and  were  lead  to  consider  an  augmented 
pupulation  as  incompatible  with  free  institutions* 
The  desire  of  a  remedy  for  this  supposed  evil,  and 
the  wish  to  establish  marts  for  trade,  led  the  gov 
ernments  often  to  undertake  the  establishment  of 
colonies  as  an  affair  of  state  expediency.  Coloniza 
tion  and  commerce,  indeed,  would  naturally  become 
objects  of  interest  to  an  ingenious  and  enterprising 
people,  inhabiting  a  territory  closely  circumscribed 
in  its  limits,  and  in  no  small  part  mountainous  arid 
sterile  ;  while  the  islands  of  the  adjacent  seas,  and 
the  promontories  and  coasts  of  the  neighbouring 
continents,  by  there  mere  proximity,  strongly  solicit 
ed  the  excited  spirit  of  emigration.  Such  was  this 
proximity,  in  many  instances,  that  the  new  settle 
ments  appeared  rather  to  be  the  mere  extension  of 
population  over  contiguous  territory,  than  the  es 
tablishment  of  distant  colonies.  In  proportion  as 
they  were  near  to  the  parent  state,  they  would  be 
under  its  authority,  and  partake  of  its  fortunes. 
The  colony  at  Marseilles  might  perceive  lightly,  or 
not  at  all,  the  sway  of  Phocis  ;  while  the  islands  in 
the  Egean  sea  could  hardly  attain  to  independence 
of  their  Athenian  origin.  Many  of  these  establish 
ments  took  place  at  an  early  age  ;  and  if  there  were 
defects  in  the  governments  of  the  parent  states,  the 


23 

colonists  did  not  possess  philosophy  or  experience 
sufficient  to  correct  such  evils  *in  their  own  institu 
tions,  even  if  they  had  not  been,  by  other  causes, 
deprived  of  the  power.  An  immediate  necessity, 
connected  with  the  support  of  life,  was  the  main 
and  direct  inducement  to  these  undertakings,  and 
there  could  hardly  exist  more  than  the  hope  of  a 
successful  imitation  of  institutions  with  which  they 
were  already  acquainted,  and  of  holding  an  equality 
with  their  neighbours  in  the  course  of  improvement. 
The  laws  and  customs,  both  political  and  municipal,, 
as  well  as  the  religious  worship  of  the  parent  city, 
were  transferred  to  the  colony ;  and  the  parent  city 
herself,  with  all  such  of  her  colonies  as  were  not  too 
far  remote  for  frequent  intercourse  and  common 
sentiments,  would  appear  like  a  family  of  cities, 
more  or  less  dependent,  and  more  or  less  connected. 
We  know  how  imperfect  this  system  was,  as  a  sys 
tem  of  general  politics,  and  what  scope  it  gave  to 
those  mutual  dissentions  and  conflicts  which  proved 
so  fatal  to  Greece. 

But  it  is  more  pertinent  to  our  present  purpose  to 
observe,  that  nothing  existed  in  the  character  of 
Grecian  emigrations,  or  in  the  spirit  and  intelligence 
of  the  emigrants,  likely  to  give  a  new  and  important 
direction  to  human  affairs,  or  a  new  impulse  to  the 
human  mind.  Their  motives  were  not  high  enough, 
their  views  were  not  sufficiently  large  and  prospec 
tive.  They  went  not  forth,  like  our  ancestors,  to 
erect  systems  of  more  perfect  civil  liberty,  or  to 


24      *  % 

enjoy  a  higher  degree  of  religions  freedom.  Above 
all,  there  was  nothing  in  the  religion  and  learning  oft 
the  age,  that  could  either  inspire  high  purposes,  or 
give  the  ability  to  execute  them.  Whatever  re 
straints  on  civil  liberty,  or  whatever  abuses  in  reli 
gious  worship,  existed  at  the  time  of  our  fathers' 
emigration,  yet,  even  then,  all  was  light  in  the  moral 
and  mental  world,  in  comparison  with  its  condition  in 
most  periods  of  the  ancient  states.  The  settlement 
of  a  new  continent,  in  an  age  of  progressive  knowl 
edge  and  improvement,  could  not  but  do  more  than 
merely  enlarge  the  natural  boundaries  of  the  habit 
able  world.  It  could  not  but  do  much  more  even 
than  extend  commerce  and  increase  wealth  among 
the  human  race.  We  see  how  this  event  has  acted 
how  it  must  have  acted,  and  wonder  only  why  it  did 
not  act  sooner,  in  the  production  of  moral  effects  on 
the  state  of  human  knowledge,  the  general  tone  of 
human  sentiments,  and  the  prospects  of  human  hap 
piness.  It  gave  to  civilized  man  not  only  a  new 
continent  to  be  inhabited  and  cultivated,  and  new 
seas  to  be  explored  ;  but  it  gave  him  also  a  new 
range  for  his  thoughts,  new  objects  for  curiosity,  and 
new  excitements  to  knowledge  and  improvement. 

Roman  colonization  resembled,  far  less  than  that 
of  the  Greeks,  the  original  settlements  of  this  coun 
try.  Power  and  dominion  were  the  objects  of 
Rome,  even  in  her  colonial  establishments.  Her 
whole  exterior  aspect  was  for  centuries  hostile  and 
terrific.  She  grasped  at  dominion,  from  India  to 


25 

Britain,  and  her  measures  of  colonization  partook  of 
the  character  of  her  general  system.  Her  policy 
was  military,  because  her  objects  were  power, 
ascendancy,  and  subjugation.  Detachments  of  emi 
grants  from  Rome  incorporated  themselves  with> 
and  governed,  the  original  inhabitants  of  conquered 
countries.  She  sent  citizens  where  she  had  first 
sent  soldiers ;  her  law  followed  her  sword.  Her 
colonies  were  a  sort  of  military  establishment ;  so 
many  advanced  posts  in  the  career  of  her  dominion. 
A  governor  from  Rome  ruled  the  new  colony  with 
absolute  sway,  and  often  with  unbounded  rapacity. 
In  Sicily,  in  Gaul,  in  Spain,  and  in  Asia,  the  power 
of  Rome  prevailed,  not  nominally  only,  but  really 
and  effectually.  Those  who  immediately  exercised 
it  were  Roman;  the  tone  and  tendency  of  its  ad 
ministration,  Roman.  Rome  herself  continued  to 
be  the  heart  and  centre  of  the  great  system  which 
she  had  established.  Extortion  and  rapacity,  find 
ing  a  wide  and  often  rich  field  of  action  in  the  pro 
vinces,  looked  nevertheless  to  the  banks  of  the 
Tiber,  as  the  scene  in  which  their  ill-gotten  treas 
ures  should  be  displayed ;  or  if  a  spirit  of  more 
honest  acquisition  prevailed,  the  object,  neverthe 
less,  was  ultimate  enjoyment  in  Rome  itself.  If  our 
own  history,  and  our  own  times  did  not  sufficiently 
expose  the  inherent  and  incurable  evils  of  provincial 
government,  we  might  see  them  pourtrayed,  to  our 
amazement,  in  the  desolated  and  ruined  provinces  of 
the  Roman  empire.  We  might  hear  them,  in  a 
4 


26 

voice  that  terrifies  us,  in  those  strains  of  complaint 
and  accusation,  which  the  advocates  of  the  provin 
ces  poured  forth  in  the  Roman  Forum. — "  Quas  res 
luxuries  inflagitiis,  crudelitas  in  suppliciis,  avaritia  in 
rapinis,  superbia  in  contumeliis,  efficere  potuisset,  eas 
omneis  sese  pertulisse" 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  Roman  provinces  par 
took  of  the  fortunes  as  well  as  of  the  sentiments  and 
general  character  of  the  seat  of  empire.  They  lived 
together  with  her,  they  flourished  with  her,  and  fell 
with  her.  The  branches  were  lopped  away  even  be 
fore  the  vast  and  venerable  trunk  itself  fell  prostrate 
to  the  earth.  Nothing  had  proceeded  from  her. 
which  could  support  itself,  and  bear  up  the  name  of 
its  origin,  when  her  own  sustaining  arm  should  be  en 
feebled  or  withdrawn.  It  was  not  given  to  Rome 
to  see,  either  at  her  zenith,  or  in  her  decline,  a  child 
of  her  own,  distant  indeed,  and  independent  of  her 
controul,  yet  speaking  her  language  and  inheriting 
her  blood,  springing  forward  to  a  competition  with 
her  own  power,  and  a  comparison  with  her  own 
great  renown.  She  saw  not  a  vast  region  of  the 
earth,  peopled  from  her  stock,  full  of  states  and 
political  communities,  improving  hpon  the  models  of 
her  institutions,  and  breathing  in  fuller  measure  the 
spirit  which  she  had  breathed  in  the  best  periods  of 
her  existence;  enjoying  and  extending  her  arts  and 
her  literature ;  rising  rapidly  from  political  child 
hood  to  manly  strength  and  independence  ;  her  off 
spring,  yet  now  her  equal;  unconnected  with  the 


27 

causes  which  might  affect  the  duration  of  her  own 
power  and  greatness ;  of  common  origin,  but  not 
linked  to  a  common  fate;  giving  ample  pledge,  that 
her  name  should  not  be  forgotten,  that  her  language 
should  not  cease  to  be  used  among  men;  that  what 
soever  she  had  done  for  human  knowledge  and 
human  happiness,  should  be  treasured  up  and  pre 
served ;  that  the  record  of  her  existence,  and  her 
achievements,  should  not  be  obscured,  although,  in 
the  inscrutable  purposes  of  Providence,  it  might  be 
her  destiny  to  fall  from  opulence  and  splendour ; 
although  the  time  might  come,  when  darkness  should 
settle  on  all  her  hills;  when  foreign  or  domestic 
violence  should  overturn  her  altars  and  her  temples; 
when  ignorance  and  despotism  should  fill  the  places 
where  Laws,  and  Arts,  and  Liberty  had  flourished; 
when  the  feet  of  barbarism  should  trample  On  the 
tombs  of  her  consuls,  and  the  walls  of  her  senate 
house  and  forum  echo  only  to  the  voice  of  savage 
triumph.  She  saw  not  this  glorious  vision,  to  inspire 
and  fortify  her  against  the  possible  decay  or  down- 
fal  of  her  power.  Happy  are  they,  who  in  our  day 
may  behold  it,  if  they  shall  contemplate  it  with  the 
sentiments  which  it  ought  to  inspire  ! 

The  New-England  colonies  diiFer  quite  as  widely 
from  the  Asiatic  establishments  of  the  modern  Eu 
ropean  Nations,  as  from  the  models  of  the  Ancient 
States.  The  sole  object  of  those  establishments 
was  originally  trade  ;  although  we  have  seen,  in  one 
of  them,  the  anomaly  of  a  mere  trading  company 


28 

attaining  a  political  character,  disbursing  revenues, 
and  maintaining  armies  and  fortresses,  until  it  has 
extended  its  control  over  seventy  millions  of  people. 
Differing  from  these  and  still  differing  more  from 
the  New-England  and  North  American  Colonies,  are 
the  European  settlements  in  the  West  India  Islands. 
It  is  not  strange,  that  when  men's  minds  were  turn 
ed  to  the  settlement  of  America,  different  objects 
should  be  proposed  by  those  who  emigrated  to  the 
different  regions  of  so  vast  a  country.  Climate,  soil, 
and  condition  were  not  all  equally  favourable  to  all 
pursuits.  In  the  West  Indies,  the  purpose  of  those 
who  went  thither,  was  to  engage  in  that  species  of 
agriculture,  suited  to  the  soil  and  climate,  which 
seems  to  bear  more  resemblance  to  commerce,  than 
to  the  hard  and  plain  tillage  of  New-England.  The 
great  staples  of  these  countries,  being  partly  an 
agricultural  and  partly  a  manufactured  product,  and 
not  being  of  the  necessaries  of  life,  become  the  ob 
ject  of  calculation,  with  respect  to  a  profitable  in 
vestment  of  capital,  like  any  other  enterprise  of 
trade  or  manufacture;  and  more  especially,  as  they 
require,  by  necessity  or  habit,  slave  labour  for  their 
production,  the  capital  necessary  to  carry  on  the 
work  of  this  production  is  more  considerable.  The 
West  Indies  are  resorted  to,  therefore,  rather  for 
the  investment  of  capital,  than  for  the  purpose  of 
sustaining  life  by  personal  labour.  Such  as  possess 
a  considerable  amount  of  capital,  or  such  as  choose 
to  adventure  in  commercial  speculations  without 


29 

capital,  can  alone  be  fitted  to  be  emigrants  to  the 
islands.  The  agriculture  of  these  regions,  as  before 
observed,  is  a  sort  of  commerce  ;  and  it  is  a  species 
of  employment,  in  which  labour  seems  to  fcrrn  an 
inconsiderable  ingredient  in  the  productive  causes ; 
since  the  portion  of  white  labour  is  exceedingly  small, 
and  slave  labour  is  rather  more  like  profit  on  stock, 
or  capital,  than  labour  properly  so  called.  The  in 
dividual  who  contemplates  an  establishment  of  this 
kind,  takes  into  the  account  the  cost  of  the  necessa 
ry  number  of  slaves,  in  the  same  manner  as  he  cal 
culates  the  cost  of  the  land.  The  uncertainty,  too, 
of  this  species  of  employment,  affords  another  ground 
of  resemblance  to  commerce.  Although  gainful,  on 
the  whole,  and  in  a  series  of  years,  it  is  often  very 
disastrous  for  a  single  year,  and  as  the  capital  is  not 
readily  invested  in  other  pursuits,  bad  crops,  or  bad 
markets,  not  only  affect  the  profits,  but  the  capital 
itself.  Hence  the  sudden  depressions  which  take 
place  in  the  value  of  such  estates. 

But  the  great  and  leading  observation,  relative  to 
these  establishments,  remains  to  be  made.  It  is,  that 
the  owners  of  the  soil  and  of  the  capital  seldom  con 
sider  themselves  at  home  in  the  colony.  A  very  great 
portion  of  the  soil  itself  is  usually  owned  in  the  mo 
ther  country  ;  a  still  greater  is  mortgaged  for  capital 
obtained  there  ;  and,  in  general,  those  who  are  to 
derive  an  interest  from  the  products,  look  to  the 
parent  country  as  the  place  for  enjoyment  of  their 
wealth.  The  population  is  therefore  constantly  flue- 


30 

tuating.  Nobody  comes  but  to  return.  A  constant 
succession  of  owners,  agents,  and  factors  takes  place. 
Whatsoever  the  soil,  forced  by  the  unmitigated  toil 
of  slavery,  can  yield,  is  borne  home  to  defray  rents, 
and  interest,  and  agencies ;  or  to  give  the  means  of 
living  in  a  better  society.  In  such  a  state,  it  is  evi 
dent  that  no  spirit  of  permanent  improvement  is 
likely  to  spring  up.  Profits  will  not  be  invested  with 
a  distant  view  of  benefiting  posterity.  Roads  and 
canals  will  hardly  be  built ;  schools  will  not  be 
founded  ;  colleges  will  not  be  endowed.  There  will 
be  few  fixtures  in  society  ;  no  principles  of  utility  or 
of  elegance,  planted  now,  with  the  hope  of  being 
developed  and  expanded  hereafter.  Profit,  imme 
diate  profit,  must  be  the  principal  active  spring  in 
the  social  system.  There  may  be  many  particular 
exceptions  to  these  general  remarks,  but  the  outline 
of  the  whole,  is  such  as  is  here  drawn. 

Another  most  important  consequence  of  such  a 
state  of  things  is,  that  no  idea  of  independence  of 
the  parent  country  is  likely  to  arise  ;  unless  indeed 
it  should  spring  up  in  a  form,  that  would  threaten 
universal  desolation.  The  inhabitants  have  no  strong 
attachment  to  the  place  which  they  inhabit.  The 
hope  of  a  great  portion  of  them  is  to  leave  it ;  and 
their  great  desire,  to  leave  it  soon.  However  useful 
they  may  be  to  the  parent  state,  how  much  soever 
they  may  add  to  the  conveniences  and  luxuries  of 
life,  these  colonies  are  not  favoured  spots  for  the 
expansion  of  the  human  mind,  for  the  progress  of 


31 

permanent  improvement,  or  for  sowing  the  seeds  of 
future  independent  empire. 

DiiFerent,  indeed,  most  widely  different,  from  all 
these  instances  of  emigration  and  plantation,  were 
the  condition,  the  purposes,  and  the  prospects  of  our 
Fathers,  when  they  established  their  infant  colony 
upon  this  spot.  They  came  hither  to  a  land  from 
which  they  were  never  to  return.  Hither  they  had 
brought,  and  here  they  were  to  fix,  their  hopes, 
their  attachments,  and  their  objects.  Some  natural 
tears  they  shed,  as  they  left  the  pleasant  abodes  of 
their  fathers,  and  some  emotions  they  suppressed, 
when  the  white  cliffs  of  their  native  country,  now 
seen  for  the  last  time,  grew  dim  to  their  sight. 
They  were  acting  however  upon  a  resolution  not  to  be 
changed.  With  whatever  stifled  regrets,  with  what 
ever  occasional  hesitation,  with  whatever  appalling 
apprehensions,  which  might  sometimes  arise  with 
force  to  shake  the  firmest  purpose,  they  had  vet  com 
mitted  themselves  to  heaven  and  the  elements ;  and 
a  thousand  leagues  of  water  soon  interposed  to  sepa 
rate  them  forever  from  the  region  which  gave  them 
birth.  A  new  existence  awaited  them  here  ;  and 
when  they  saw  these  shores,  rough,  cold,  barbarous, 
and  barren  as  then  they  were,  they  beheld  their 
country.  That  mixed  and  strong  feeling,  which  we 
call  love  of  country,  and  which  is,  in  general,  never 
extinguished  in  the  heart  of  man,  grasped  and  em 
braced  its  proper  object  here.  Whatever  consti 
tutes  country,  except  the  earth  and  the  sun,  all  the 


32 

moral  causes  of  affection  and  attachment,  which 
operate  upon  the  heart,  they  had  brought  with  them 
to  their  new  abode.  Here  were  now  their  families 
and  friends ;  their  homes,  and  their  properly. 
Before  they  reached  the  shore,  they  had  established 
the  elements  of  a  social  system,  and  at  a  much  ear 
lier  period  had  settled  their  forms  of  religious  wor 
ship.  At  the  moment  of  their  lauding,  therefore, 
they  possessed  institutions  of  government,  and  insti 
tutions  of  religion  :  and  friends  and  families,  and  so 
cial  and  religious  institutions,  established  by  consent, 
founded  on  choice  and  preference,  how  nearly  do 
these  fill  up  our  whole  idea  of  country  ! — The  morn 
ing  that  beamed  on  the  first  night  of  their  repose, 
saw  the  Pilgrims  already  established  in  their  coun 
try.  There  were  political  institutions,  and  civil  li 
berty,  and  religious  worship.  Poetry  has  fancied 
nothing,  in  the  wanderings  of  heroes,  so  distinct  and 
characteristic.  Here  was  man,  indeed,  unprotected, 
and  unprovided  for.  on  the  shore  of  a  rude  and  fear 
ful  wilderness  ;  but  it  was  politic,  intelligent  and 
educated  man.  Every  thing  was  civilized  but  the 
physical  world.  Institutions  containing  in  substance 
all  that  ages  had  done  for  human  government,  were 
established  in  a  forest.  Cultivated  mind  was  to  act 
on  uncultivated  nature  ;  and,  more  than  all,  a  go 
vernment,  and  a  country,  were  to  commence  with 
the  very  first  foundations  laid  under  the  divine  light 
of  the  Christian  religion.  Happy  auspices  of  a  happy 
futurity  !  Who  would  wish,  that  his  country's  exis- 


33 

tence  had  otherwise  begun  ? — Who  would  desire  the 
power  of  going  back  to  the  ages  of  table?  Who 
would  wish  for  an  origin,  obscured  in  the  darkness 
of  antiquity  ? — Who  would  wish  for  other  embla 
zoning  of  his  country's  heraldry,  or  other  ornaments 
of  her  genealogy,  than  to  be  able  to  say,  that  her 
first  existence  was  with  intelligence  ;  her  first  breath 
the  inspirations  of  liberty;  her  first  principle  the 
truth  of  divine  religion? 

Local  attachments  and  sympathies  would  erelong 
spring  up  in  the  breasts  of  our  ancestors,  endearing 
to  them  the  place  of  their  refuge.  W  hatever  natu 
ral  objects  are  associated  with  interesting  scenes  and 
high  efforts,  obtain  a  hold  on  human  feeling,  and  de 
mand  from  the  heart  a  sort  of  recognition  and  re 
gard.  This  Rock  soon  became  hallowed  in  the 
esteem  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  these  hills  grateful  to 
their  sight.  Neither  they  nor  their  children  were 
again  to  till  the  soil  of  England,  nor  again  to  tra 
verse  the  seas  which  surrounded  her.  But  here 
was  a  new  sea,  now  open  to  their  enterprise,  and  a 
new  soil,  which  had  not  failed  to  respond  gratefully 
to  their  laborious  industry,  and  which  was  already 
assuming  a  robe  of  verdure.  Hardly  had  they  pro 
vided  shelter  for  the  living,  ere  they  were  summon 
ed  to  erect  sepulchres  for  the  dead.  The  ground 
had  become  sacred,  by  enclosing  the  remains  of 
some  of  their  companions  and  connexions.  A  parent, 
a  child,  a  husband  or  a  wife,  had  gone  the  way  of 
all  flesh,  and  mingled  with  the  dust  of  New-England. 
5 


34 

We  naturally  look  with  strong  emotions  to  the  spot, 
though  it  be  a  wilderness,  where  the  ashes  of  those 
we  have  loved  repose.  Where  the  heart  has  laid 
down  what  it  loved  most,  it  is  desirous  of  laying 
itself  down.  No  sculptured  marble,  no  enduring 
monument,  no  honourable  inscription,  no  ever  burn 
ing  taper  that  would  drive  away  the  darkness  of 
death,  can  soften  our  sense  of  the  reality  of  mortali 
ty,  and  hallow  to  our  feelings  the  ground  which  is  to 
cover  us,  like  the  consciousness  that  we  shall  sleep, 
dust  to  dust,  with  the  objects  of  our  affections. 

In  a  short  time  other  causes  sprung  up  to  bind  the 
Pilgrims  with  new  cords  to  their  chosen  land.  Chil 
dren  were  born,  and  the  hopes  of  future  generations 
arose,  in  the  spot  of  their  new  habitation.  The 
second  generation  found  this  the  land  of  their  na 
tivity,  and  saw  that  they  were  bound  to  its  fortunes. 
They  beheld  their  father's  graves  around  them,  and 
while  they  read  the  memorials  of  their  toils  and  la 
bours,  they  rejoiced  in  the  inheritance  which  they 
found  bequeathed  to  them. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  causes,  it  was  to  be 
expected,  that  an  interest  and  a  feeling  should  arise 
here,  entirely  different  from  the  interest  and  feeling 
of  mere  Englishmen;  and  all  the  subsequent  history 
of  the  colonies  proves  this  to  have  actually  and  gra 
dually  taken  place.  With  the  general  acknowledg 
ment  of  the  supremacy  of  the  British  crown,  there 
was,  from  the  first,  a  repugnance  to  an  entire  sub 
mission  to  the  control  of  British  legislation.  The 


35 

colonies  stood  upon  their  charters,  which  as  they 
contended,  exempted  them  from  the  ordinary  power 
of  the  British  parliament,  and  authorized  them  to 
conduct  their  own  concerns  by  their  own  councils. 
They  utterly  resisted  the  notion  that  they  were  to 
be  ruled  by  the  mere  authority  of  the  government 
at  home,  and  would  not  endure  even  that  their  own 
charter  governments  should  be  established  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  It  was  not  a  controling 
or  protecting  board  in  England,  but  a  government  of 
their  own,  and  existing  immediately  within  their 
limits,  which  could  satisfy  their  wishes.  It  was  easy 
to  foresee,  what  we  know  also  to  have  happened, 
that  the  first  great  cause  of  collision  and  jealousy 
would  be,  under  the  notion  of  political  economy 
then  and  still  prevalent  in  Europe,  an  attempt  on 
the  part  of  the  mother  country  to  monopolize  the 
trade  of  the  colonies.  Whoever  has  looked  deeply 
into  the  causes  which  produced  our  revolution,  has 
found,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  original  principle  far 
back  in  this  claim,  on  the  part  of  England,  to  mono 
polize  our  trade,  and  a  continued  effort  on  the  part 
of  the  colonies  to  resist  or  evade  that  monopoly;  if 
indeed  it  be  not  still  more  just  and  philosophical  to 
go  farther  back,  and  to  consider  it  decided,  that  an 
independent  government  must  arise  here,  the  mo 
ment  it  was  ascertained  that  an  English  colony,  such 
as  landed  in  this  place,  could  sustain  itself  against 
the  dangers  which  surrounded  it,  and,  with  other 
similar  establishments,  overspread  the  land  with  an 


36 

English  population.  Accidental  causes  retarded  at 
times,  and  at  times  accelerated  the  progress  of  the 
controversy.  The  colonies  wanted  strength,  and 
time  gave  it  to  them.  They  required  measures  of 
strong  and  palpable  injustice  on  the  part  of  the  mo 
ther  country,  to  justify  resistance  ;  the  early  part  of 
the  late  King's  reign  furnished  them.  They  needed 
spirits  of  high  order,  of  great  daring,  of  long  fore 
sight  and  of  commanding  power,  to  seize  the  favour 
ing  occasion  to  strike  a  blow,  which  should  sever, 
forever,  the  tie  of  colonial  dependence  ;  and  these 
spirits  were  found,  in  all  the  extent  which  that  or 
any  crisis  could  demand,  in  Otis,  Adams,  Hancock, 
and  the  other  immediate  authors  of  our  indepen 
dence.  Still  it  is  true,  that  for  a  century,  causes 
had  been  in  operation  tending  to  prepare  things  for 
this  great  result.  In  the  year  16150  the  English  act 
of  Navigation  was  passed  ;  the  first  and  grand  ob 
ject  of  which  seems  to  have  been  to  secure  to  Eng 
land  the  whole  trade  with  her  plantations.  It  was 
provided,  by  that  act,  that  none  but  English  ships 
should  transport  American  produce  over  the  ocean; 
and  that  the  principal  articles  of  that  produce  should 
be  allowed  to  be  sold  only  in  the  markets  of  the 
mother  country.  Three  years  afterwards  another 
law  was  passed,  which  enacted,  that  such  commodi 
ties  as  the  colonies  might  wish  to  purchase,  should 
be  bought  only  in  the  markets  of  the  mother  coun 
try.  Severe  rules  were  prescribed  to  enforce  the 
provisions  of  these  laws,  and  heavy  penalties  impos- 


37 

cd  on  all  who  should  violate  them.  In  the  subse 
quent  years  of  the  same  reign,  other  statutes  were 
passed,  to  reinforce  these  statutes,  and  other  rules 
prescribed,  to  secure  a  compliance  with  these  rules. 
In  this  manner  was  the  trade,  to  and  from  the  colo 
nies,  tied  up,  almost  to  the  exclusive  advantage  of 
the  parent  country.  But  laws,  which  rendered  the 
interest  of  a  whole  people  subordinate  to  that  of 
another  people,  were  not  likely  to  execute  them 
selves  ;  nor  was  it  easy  to  find  many  on  the  spot, 
who  could  be  depended  upon  for  carrying  them  into 
execution.  In  fact,  these  laws  were  more  or  less 
evaded,  or  resisted,  in  all  the  colonies.  To  enforce 
them  was  the  constant  endeavour  of  the  government 
at  home;  to  prevent  or  elude  their  operation,  the 
perpetual  object  here.  "  The  laws  of  navigation," 
says  a  living  British  writer,  "  were  no  where  so 
openly  disobeyed  and  contemned,  as  in  New-Eng 
land."  "  The  people  of  Massachusetts  Bay,"  he 
adds,  "  were  from  the  first  disposed  to  act  as  if  in 
dependent  of  the  mother  country,  and  having  a  Go 
vernor  and  magistrates  of  their  own  choice,  it  was 
difficult  to  enforce  any  regulation  which  came  from 
the  English  parliament,  adverse  to  their  interests." 
To  provide  more  effectually  for  the  execution  of 
these  laws,  we  know  that  courts  of  admiralty  were 
afterwards  established  by  the  crown,  with  power  to 
try  revenue  causes,  as  questions  of  admiralty,  upon 
the  construction,  given  by  the  crown  lawyers,  to  an 
act  of  parliament; — a  great  departure  from  the 


38 

ordinary  principles  of  English  jurisprudence,  but 
which  has  been  maintained,  nevertheless,  by  the 
force  of  habit  and  precedent,  and  is  adopted  in  our 
own  existing  systems  of  government. 

"  There  lie,"  says  another  English  writer,  whose 
connexion  with  the  Board  of  Trade  has  enabled  him 
to  ascertain  many  facts  connected  with  colonial  his 
tory, — "  There  lie  among  the  documents  in  the 
board  of  trade  and  paper  office,  the  most  satisfactory 
proofs,  from  the  epoch  of  the  English  revolution  in 
1688,  throughout  every  reign,  and  during  every  ad 
ministration,  of  the  settled  purpose  of  the  colonies  to 
acquire  direct  independence  and  positive  sovereign 
ty."  Perhaps  this  may  be  stated  somewhat  too 
strongly ;  but  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  establishments  here,  and  from  the 
general  character  of  the  measures  respecting  their 
concerns,  early  adopted,  and  steadily  pursued  by  the 
English  government,  a  division  of  the  empire  was 
the  natural  and  necessary  result  to  which  every  thing 
tended. 

I  have  dwelt  on  this  topic,  because  it  seems  to  me, 
that  the  peculiar  original  character  of  the  New-En 
gland  colonies,  and  certain  causes  coeval  with  their 
existence,  have  had  a  strong  and  decided  influence 
on  all  their  subsequent  history,  and  especially  on  the 
great  event  of  the  Revolution.  Whoever  would 
write  our  history,  and  would  understand  and  explain 
early  transactions,  should  comprehend  the  nature 
and  force  of  the  feeling  which  I  have  endeavoured 


39 

to  describe.  As  a  son,  leaving  the  house  of  his  fa 
ther  for  his  own,  finds,  by  the  order  of  nature,  and 
the  very  law  of  his  being,  nearer  and  dearer  objects 
around  which  his  affections  circle,  while  his  attach 
ment  to  the  parental  roof  becomes  moderated,  by 
degrees,  to  a  composed  regard,  and  an  affectionate 
remembrance;  so  our  ancestors,  leaving  their  native 
land,  not  without  some  violence  to  the  feelings  of 
nature  and  affection,  yet  in  time  found  here,  a  new 
circle  of  engagements,  interests,  and  affections;  a 
feeling,  which  more  and  more  encroached  upon  the 
old,  till  an  undivided  sentiment,  that  this  was  their 
country,  occupied  the  heart ;  and  patriotism,  shutting 
out  from  its  embraces  the  parent  realm,  became 
local  to  America. 

Some  retrospect  of  the  century  which  has  now 
elapsed,  is  among  the  duties  of  the  occasion.  It 
must,  however,  necessarily  be  imperfect,  to  be  com 
pressed  \vithin  the  limits  of  a  single  discourse.  I 
shall  content  myself,  therefore,  with  taking  notice  of 
a  few  of  the  leading,  and  most  important,  occurren 
ces,  which  have  distinguished  the  period. 

When  the  first  century  closed,  the  progress  of  the 
country  appeared  to  have  been  considerable  ;  not 
withstanding  that,  in  comparison  with  its  subsequent 
advancement,  it  now  seems  otherwise.  A  broad  and 
lasting  foundation  had  been  laid :  excellent  institu 
tions  had  been  established  ;  much  of  the  prejudices 
of  former  times  had  become  removed  ;  a  more  liberal 
and  catholic  spirit  on  subjects  of  religious  concern  had 


40 

begun  to  extend  itself,  and  many  things  conspired  to 
give  promise  of  increasing  future  prosperity.  Great 
men  had  arisen  in  public  life  and  the  liberal  profes 
sions.  The  Mathers,  father  and  son,  were  then 
sinking  low  in  the  western  horizon  ;  Leverett,  the 
learned,  the  accomplished,  the  excellent  Leverett, 
was  about  to  withdraw  his  brilliant  and  useful  light. 
In  Pernberton,  great  hopes  had  been  suddenly  ex 
tinguished,  but  Prince  and  Colman,  were  in  our  sky; 
and  the  crepuscular  light  had  begun  to  flash  along 
the  East,  of  a  great  luminary  which  was  about  to 
appear;  and  which  was  to  mark  the  age  with  his 
own  name,  as  the  age  of  Franklin. 

The  bloody  Indian  wars,  which  harassed  the  peo 
ple  for  a  part  of  the  first  century ;  the  restrictions 
on  the  trade  of  the  Colonies — added  to  the  discour 
agements  inherently  belonging  to  all  forms  of  colonial 
government;  the  distance  from  Europe,  and  the 
small  hope  of  immediate  profit  to  adventurers,  are 
among  the  causes  which  had  contributed  to  retard 
the  progress  of  populationA  Perhaps  it  may  be  ad 
ded,  also,  that  during  the  period  of  the  civil  wars  in 
England,  and  the  reign  of  Cromwell,  many  persons, 
whose  religious  opinions  and  religious  temper  might, 
under  other  circumstances  have  induced  them  to 
join  the  New-England  colonists,  found  reasons  to  re 
main  in  England ;  either  on  account  of  active  occu 
pation  in  the  scenes  which  were  passing,  or  of  an  an 
ticipation  of  the  enjoyment,  in  their  own  country,  of 
a  form  of  government,  civil  and  religious,  accommo- 


41 

dated  to  their  views  and  principles.  The  violent 
measures,  too,  pursued  against  the  Colonies  in  the 
rei^n  of  Charles  the  second,  the  mockery  of  a  trial, 
and  the  forfeiture  of  the  Charters,  were  serious 
evils.  And  during  the  open  violences  of  the  short 
reign  of  James  the  second,  and  the  tyranny  of  An- 
dros,  as  the  venerable  historian  of  Connecticut  ob 
serves,  "  Jill  the  motives  to  great  actions,  to  industry, 
economy,  enterprize,  wealth,  and  population,  were  in  a 
manner  annihilated.  Ji  general  inactivity  and  Ian- 
guishment  pervaded  the  public  body.  Liberty,  proper 
ty,  and  every  thing  which  ought  to  be  dear  to  men,  every 
day  grew  more  and  more  insecure." 

With  the  revolution  in  England,  a  better  prospect 
had  opened  on  this  country,  as  well  as  on  that.  The 
joy  had  been  as  great,  at  that  event,  and  far  more 
universal  in  New,  than  in  Old  England.  A  new 
Charter  had  been  granted  to  Massachusetts,  which, 
although  it  did  not  confirm  to  her  inhabitants  all 
their  former  privileges,  yet  relieved  them  from 
great  evils  and  embarrassments,  and  promised  fu 
ture  security.  More  than  all,  perhaps,  the  revolu 
tion  in  England,  had  done  good  to  the  general  cause 
of  liberty  and  justice.  A  blow  had  been  struck,  in 
favour  of  the  rights  and  liberties,  not  of  England 
alone,  but  of  descendants  and  kinsmen  of  England, 
all  over  the  world.  Great  political  truths  had  been 
established.  The  champions  of  liberty  had  been 
successful  in  a  fearful  and  perilous  conflict.  Somers, 
and  Cavendish,  and  Jekyl,  and  Howard,  had  tri- 
6 


42 

umphed  in  one  of  the  most  noble  causes  ever  un* 
der taken  by  men.  A  revolution  had  been  made 
upon  principle.  A  monarch  had  been  dethroned, 
for  violating  the  original  compact  between  King  arid 
People.  The  rights  of  the  people  to  partake  in 
the  government,  and  to  limit  the  monarch  by  fun 
damental  rules  of  government,  had  been  maintained  ; 
and  however  unjust  the  government  of  England 
might  afterwards  be,  towards  other  governments  or 
towards  her  colonies,  she  had  ceased  to  be  governed 
herself,  by  the  arbitrary  maxims  of  the  Stuarts. 
New-England  had  submitted  to  the  violence  of 

o 

James  the  second,  not  longer  than  Old  England. 
Not  only  was  it  reserved  to  Massachusetts,  that  on 
her  soil  should  be  acted  the  first  scene  of  that  great 
revolutionary  Drama,  which  was  to  take  place  near 
a  century  afterwards,  but  the  English  revolution 
itself,  as  far  as  the  Colonies  were  concerned,  com 
menced  in  Boston.  A  direct  and  forcible  resistance 
to  the  authority  of  James  the  second,  was  the  seiz 
ure  and  imprisonment  of  Andros,  in  April  1689. 
The  pulse  of  Liberty  beat  as  high  in  the  extremi 
ties,  as  at  the  heart.  The  vigorous  feeling  of  the 
Colony  burst  out,  before  it  was  known  how  the 
parent  country  would  finally  conduct  itself.  The 
King's  representative,  Sir  Edmund  Andros,  was  a 
prisoner  in  the  Castle  at  Boston,  before  it  was  or 
could  be  known,  that  the  King  himself  had  ceased 
to  exercise  his  full  dominion  on  the  English  throne. 
Before  it  was  known  here,  whether  the  invasion 


43 

of  the  Prince  of  Orange  would  or  could  prove  suc 
cessful  ;  as  soon  only  as  it  was  known  that  it  had 
been  undertaken,  the  people  of  Massachusetts,  at 
the  imminent  hazard  of  their  lives  and  fortunes,  had 
accomplished  the  revolution  as  far  as  respected 
themselves.  It  is  probable,  that,  reasoning  on  gen 
eral  principles,  and  the  known  attachment  of  the 
English  people  to  their  constitution  and  liberties,  and 
their  deep  and  fixed  dislike  of  the  King's  religion 
and  politics,  the  people  of  New-England  expected  a 
catastrophe  fatal  to  the  power  of  the  reigning 
Prince.  Yet,  it  was  not  either  certain  enough,  or 
near  enough  to  come  to  their  aid  against  the  autho 
rity  of  the  crown,  in  that  crisis  which  had  arrived, 
and  in  which  they  trusted  to  put  themselves,  relying 
on  God,  and  on  their  own  courage.  There  were 
spirits  in  Massachusetts,  congenial  with  the  spirits  of 
the  distinguished  friends  of  the  revolution  in  Eng 
land.  There  were  those,  who  were  fit  to  associate 
•with  the  boldest  asserters  of  civil  liberty  ;  and  Ma 
ther  himself,  then  in  England,  was  not  unworthy  to 
be  ranked  with  those  sons  of  the  church,  whose 
firmness  and  spirit,  in  resisting  kingly  encroachment 
in  religion,  entitled  them  to  the  gratitude  of  their 
own  and  succeeding  ages. 

The  Second  Century  opened  upon  New-England 
under  circumstances,  which  evinced,  that  much  had 
already  been  accomplished,  and  that  still  better 
prospects,  and  brighter  hopes,  were  before  her. 
She  had  laid,  deep  and  strong,  the  foundations  of 


44 

her  society.  Her  religious  principles  were  firm,  and 
her  moral  habits  exemplary.  Her  public  schools 
had  begun  to  diffuse  widely  the  elements  of  knowl 
edge;  and  the  College,  under  the  excellent  and  ac 
ceptable  administration  of  Leverett,  had  been  raised 
to  a  high  degree  of  credit  and  usefulness. 

The  commercial  character  of  the  country,  not 
withstanding  all  discouragements,  had  begun  to  dis 
play  itself,  and  Jive  hundred  vessels,  then  belonging 
to  Massachusetts,  placed  her  in  relation  to  com 
merce,  thus  early,  at  the  head  of  the  colonies.  An 
author  who  wrote  very  near  the  close  of  the  first 
century  says ;  "  New-England  is  almost  deserving 
that  noble  name  ;  so  mightily  hath  it  increased  ;  and 
from  a  small  settlement,  at  first,  is  now  become  a 
very  populous  and  flourishing  government.  The  cap 
ital  city^  Boston,  is  a  place  of  great  wealth  and 
trade  ;  and  by  much  the  largest  of  any  in  the  Eng 
lish  empire  of  America ;  and  not  exceeded  but  by 
few  cities,  perhaps  two  or  three,  in  all  the  Ameri 
can  world." 

But,  if  our  ancestors  at  the  close  of  the  first  cen 
tury,  could  look  back  with  joy,  and  even  admiration, 
at  the;  progress  of  the  country;  what  emotions  must 
we  not  feel,  when,  from  the  point  in  which  we 
stand,  we  also  look  back  and  run  along  the  events 
of  the  century  which  has  now  closed  ?  The  coun 
try,  which  then,  as  we  have  seen,  was  thought 
deserving  of  a  "  noble  name ;"  which  then  had 
"mightily  increased,"  and  become  "very  populous;" 


45 

what  was  it,  in  comparison  with  what  our  eyes  behold 
it  ?  At  that  period,  a  very  great  proportion  of  its 
inhabitants  lived  in  the  Eastern  section  of  Massa 
chusetts  proper,  and  in  this  colony.  In  Connecticut, 
there  were  towns  along  the  coast,  some  of  them 
respectable,  but  in  the  interiour,  all  was  a  wilderness 
beyond  Hartford.  On  Connecticut  river,  settlements 
had  proceeded  as  far  up  as  Deer  fie  Id,  and  fort  Dum- 
mer  had  been  built,  near  where  is  now  the  South  line 
of  New-Hampshire.  In  New-Hampshire,  no  settle 
ment  was  then  begun  thirty  miles  from  the  mouth  of 
Piscataqua  river,  and,  in  what  is  now  Maine,  the  inha 
bitants  were  confined  to  the  coast.  The  aggregate  of 
the  whole  population  of  New-England  did  not  exceed 
one  hundred  and  sixty  thousand.  Its  present  amount 
is  probably  one  million  seven  hundred  thousand. 
Instead  of  being  confined  to  its  former  limits,  her 
population  has  rolled  backward  and  filled  up  the 
spaces  included  within  her  actual  local  boundaries. 
Not  this  only,  but  it  has  overflowed  those  bounda 
ries,  and  the  waves  of  emigration  have  pressed,  far 
ther  and  farther,  toward  the  west.  The  Allcghany 
has  not  checked  it ;  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  have 
been  covered  with  it.  New-England  farms,  houses, 
villages,  and  churches  spread  over,  and  adorn  the 
immense  extent  from  the  Ohio  to  Lake  Erie  ;  and 
stretch  along,  from  the  Alleghany,  onwards  beyond 
the  Miamies,  and  towards  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony. 
Two  thousand  miles  westward  from  the  rock  where 
their  fathers  landed,  may  now  be  found  the  sons  of 


46 

the  Pilgrims;  cultivating  smiling  fields,  rearing  towns 
and  villages,  and  cherishing,  we  trust,  the  patrimo 
nial  blessings  of  wise  institutions,  of  liberty,  and  reli 
gion.  The  world  has  seen  nothing  like  this.  Re 
gions  large  enough  to  be  empires,  and  which,  half  a 
century  ago,  were  known  only  as  remote  and  unex 
plored  wildernesses,  are  now  teeming  with  popula 
tion,  and  prosperous  in  all  the  great  concerns  of  life  ; 
in  good  governments,  the  means  of  subsistence,  and 
social  happiness.  It  may  be  safely  asserted,  that 
there  are  now  more  than  a  million  of  people,  de 
scendants  of  New-England  ancestry,  living  free  and 
happy,  in  regions,  which  hardly  sixty  years  ago,  were 
tracts  of  impenetrated  forest.  Nor  do  rivers,  or 
mountains,  or  seas  resist  the  progress  of  industry  and 
enterprise.  Ere  long,  the  sons  of  the  Pilgrims  will 
be  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific.  The  imagination 
hardly  keeps  up  with  the  progress  of  population, 
improvement,  and  civilization. 

It  is  now  five  and  forty  years,  since  the  growth 
and  rising  glory  of  America  were  portrayed,  in  the 
English  parliament,  with  inimitable  beauty,  by  the 
most  consummate  orator  of  modern  times.  Going 
back  somewhat  more  than  half  a  century,  and  de 
scribing  our  progress,  as  foreseen,  from  that  point, 
by  his  amiable  friend  Lord  Bathurst,  then  living,  he 
spoke  of  the  wonderful  progress  which  America  had 
made,  during  the  period  of  a  single  human  life. 
There  is  no  American  heart,  I  imagine,  that  does  not 
glow,  both  with  conscious  patriotic  pride,  and  admi- 


47 

ration  for  one  of  the  happiest  efforts  of  eloquence, 
so  often  as  the  vision,  of  "  that  little  speck,  scarce 
visible  in  the  mass  of  national  interest,  a  small  semi 
nal  principle,  rather  than  a  formed  body,"  and  the 
progress  of  its  astonishing  development  and  growth, 
are  recalled  to  the  recollection.  But  a  stronger 
feeling  might  be  produced,  if  \ve  were  able  to  take 
up  this  prophetic  description  where  he  left  it;  and 
placing  ourselves  at  the  point  of  time  in  which  he 
was  speaking,  to  set  forth  with  equal  felicity,  the 
subsequent  progress  of  the  country.  There  is  yet 
among  the  living,  a  most  distinguished  and  venerable 
name,  a  descendant  of  the  Pilgrims  ;  one  who  has 
been  attended  through  life  by  a  great  and  fortunate 
genius;  a  man  illustrious  by  his  own  great  merits, 
and  favoured  of  Heaven  in  the  long  continuation  of 
his  years.  The  time  when  the  English  orator  was 
thus  speaking  of  America,  preceded,  but  by  a  few- 
days,  the  actual  opening  of  the  revolutionary  Drama 
at  Lexington.  He  to  whom  I  have  alluded,  then  at 
the  age  of  forty,  was  among  the  most  zealous  and 
able  defenders  of  the  violated  rights  of  his  country. 
He  seemed  already  to  have  filled  a  full  measure  of 
public  service,  and  attained  an  honourable  fame. 
The  moment  was  full  of  difficulty  and  danger,  and 
big  with  events  of  immeasurable  importance.  The 
country  was  on  the  very  brink  of  a  civil  war,  of 
which  no  man  could  foretel  the  duration  or  the  result. 
Something  more  than  a  courageous  hope,  or  charac 
teristic  ardour,  would  have  been  necessary  to  im- 


48 

press  the  glorious  prospect  on  his  belief,  if,  at  that 
moment,  before  the  sound  of  the  first  shock  of  ac 
tual  war  had  reached  his  ears,  some  attendant  spirit 
had  opened  to  him  the  vision  of  the  future;  if  it  had 
said  to  him,  "The  blow  is  struck,  and  America  is 
severed  from  England  forever!"  if  it  had  informed 
him,  that  he  himself,  the  next  annual  revolution  of 
the  sun,  should  put  his  own  hand  to  the  great  In 
strument  of  Independence,  and  write  his  name  where 
all  nations  should  behold  it,  and  all  time  should  not 
efface  it ;  that  ere  long  he  himself  should  maintain 
the  interest  and  represent  the  sovereignty  of  his 
new-born  country,  in  the  proudest  courts  of  Europe  ; 
that  he  should  one  day  exercise  her  supreme  ma 
gistracy  ;  that  he  should  yet  live  to  behold  ten  mil 
lions  of  fellow  citizens  paying  him  the  homage  of 
their  deepest  gratitude  and  kindest  affections;  that 
he  should  see  distinguished  talent  and  high  public 
trust  resting  where  his  name  rested  ;  that  he  should 
even  see  with  his  own  unclouded  eyes,  the  close  of 
the  second  century  of  New  England;  he  who  had 
begun  life  almost  with  its  commencement,  and  lived 
through  nearly  half  the  whole  history  of  his  country; 
and  that  on  the  morning  of  this  auspicious  day,  he 
should  be  found  in  the  political  councils  of  his  native 
state,  revising,  by  the  light  of  experience,  that  sys 
tem  of  government,  which  forty  years  before  he 
had  assisted  to  frame  and  establish ;  and  great  and 
happy  as  he  should  then  behold  his  country,  there 
should  be  nothing  in  prospect  to  cloud  the  scene, 


49 

nothing  to  check  the  ardour  of  that  confident  and 
patriotic  hope,  which  should  glow  in  his  bosom  to 
the  end  of  his  long  protracted  and  happy  life. 

It  would  far  exceed  the  limits  of  this  discourse, 
even  to  mention  the  principal  events  in  the  civil  and 
political  history  of  New-England  during  the  century; 
the  more  so,  as  for  the  last  half  of  the  period,  that 
history  has  been,  most  happily,  closely  interwoven 
with  the  general  history  of  the  United  States.  New- 
England  bore  an  honourable  part  in  the  wars  which 
took  place  between  England  and  France.  The  cap 
ture  of  Louisbourg  gave  her  a  character  for  mili 
tary  achievement ;  and  in  the  war  which  terminated 
with  the  peace  of  1763,  her  exertions  on  the  fron 
tiers  were  of  most  essential  service  as  well  to  the 
mother  country  as  to  all  the  colonies. 

In  New-England  the  war  of  the  revolution  com 
menced.  I  address  those  who  remember  the  memo 
rable  19th  of  April  1775;  who  shortly  after  saw 
the  burning  spires  of  Charlestown  ;  who  beheld  the 
deeds  of  Prescott,  and  heard  the  voice  of  Putnam 
amidst  the  storm  of  war,  and  saw  the  generous 
Warren  fall,  the  first  distinguished  victim  in  the 
cause  of  liberty.  It  would  be  superfluous  to  say, 
that  no  portion  of  the  country  did  more  than  the 
states  of  New-England,  to  bring  the  revolutionary 
struggle  to  a  successful  issue.  It  is  scarcely  less  to 
her  credit,  that  she  saw  early  the  necessity  of  a 
closer  union  of  the  states,  and  gave  an  efficient  and 
7 


50 

indispcnsible  aid  to  the  establishment  and  organiza 
tion  of  the  federal  government. 

Perhaps  we  might  safely  say,  that  a  new  spirit, 
and  a  new  excitement  began  to  exist  here,  about  the 
middle  of  the  last  century.  To  whatever  causes  it 
may  be  imputed,  there  seems  then  to  have  com 
menced  a  more  rapid  improvement.  The  colonies 
had  attracted  more  of  the  attention  of  the  mother 
country,  and  some  renown  in  arms  had  been  acquir 
ed.  Lord  Chatham  was  the  first  English  minister 
who  attached  high  importance  to  these  possessions 
of  the  crown,  and  who  foresaw  anything  of  their  fu 
ture  growth  and  extension.  His  opinion  was,  that 
the  great  rival  of  England  was  chiefly  to  be  feared 
as  a  maritime  and  commercial  power,  and  to  drive 
her  out  of  North  America  and  deprive  her  of  her 
West  India  possessions,  was  a  leading  object  in  his 
policy.  He  dwelt  often  on  the  fisheries  as  nurseries 
for  British  seamen,  and  the  colonial  trade  as  furnish 
ing  them  employment.  The  war,  conducted  by  him 
with  so  much  vigour,  terminated  in  a  peace,  by  which 
Canada  was  ceded  to  England.  The  effect  of  this 
was  immediately  visible  in  the  New-England  colo 
nies  :  for  the  fear  of  Indian  hostilities  on  the  fron 
tiers  being  now  happily  removed,  settlements  went 
on  with  an  activity  before  that  time  altogether  un 
precedented,  and  public  affairs  wore  a  new  and  en 
couraging  aspect.  Shortly  after  this  fortunate  ter 
mination  of  the  French  war,  the  interesting  topics 
connected  with  the  taxation  of  America  by  the  Bri- 


51 

tish  Parliament  began  to  be  discussed,  and  the  at 
tention  of  all  the  faculties  of  the  people  drawn  to 
wards  them.  There  is  perhaps  no  portion  of  our 
history  more  full  of  interest  than  the  period  from 
1760  to  the  actual  commencement  of  the  war.  The 
progress  of  opinion,  in  this  period,  though  less  known, 
is  not  less  important,  than  the  progress  of  arms  after 
wards.  Nothing  deserves  more  consideration  than 
those  events  and  discussions  which  affected  the  pub 
lic  sentiment,  and  settled  the  Revolution  in  men's 
minds,  before  hostilities  openly  broke  out. 

Internal  improvement  followed  the  establishment, 
and  prosperous  commencement,  of  the  present  go 
vernment.  More  has  been  done  for  roads,  canals, 
and  other  public  works,  within  the  last  thirty  years, 
than  in  all  our  former  history.  In  the  first  of  these 
particulars,  few  countries  excel  the  New-England 
States.  The  astonishing  increase  of  their  naviga 
tion  and  trade  is  known  to  every  one,  and  now  belongs 
to  the  history  of  our  national  wealth. 

We  may  flatter  ourselves,  too,  that  literature  and 
taste  have  not  been  stationary,  and  that  some  ad 
vancement  has  been  made  in  the  elegant,  as  well  as 
in  the  useful  arts. 

The  nature  and  constitution  of  society  and  govern-  ^Jk 
ment  in  this  country,  are  interesting  topics,  to  which,    ^ 
I  would  devote  what  remains  of  the  time  allowed  to 
this  occasion.     Of  our  system   of  government,   the 
first  thing  to  be  said,  is,  that  it  is  really  and  practi 
cally  a  free  system.     It  originates  entirely  with  the 


52 

people,  and  rests  on  no  other  foundation  than  their 
assent.  To  judge  of  its  actual  operation,  it  is  not 
enough  to  look  merely  at  the  form  of  its  construction. 
The  practical  character  of  government  depends 
often  on  a  variety  of  considerations,  besides  the  ab 
stract  frame  of  its  constitutional  organization.  Among 
these,  are  the  condition  and  tenure  of  property  ;  the 
laws  regulating  its  alienation  and  descent ;  the  pre 
sence  or  absence  of  a  military  power  ;  an  armed  or 
unarmed  yeomanry  ;  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  the 
degree  of  general  intelligence.  In  these  respects  it 
cannot  be  denied,  that  the  circumstances  of  this 
country  are  most  favourable  to  the  hope  of  main 
taining  the  government  of  a  great  nation  on  princi 
ples  entirely  popular.  In  the  absence  of  military 
power,  the  nature  of  government  must  essentially 
depend  on  the  manner  in  which  property  is  holden 
and  distributed.  There  is  a  natural  influence  belong 
ing  to  property,  whether  it  exists  in  many  hands  or 
few;  and  it  is  on  the  rights  of  property,  that  both 
despotism  and  unrestrained  popular  violence  ordina 
rily  commence  their  attacks.  Our  ancestors  began 
their  system  of  government  here,  under  a  condition 
of  comparative  equality  in  regard  to  wealth,  and 
their  early  laws  were  of  a  nature  to  favour  and  con 
tinue  this  equality.*  A  republican  form  of  govern- 

*  The  contents  of  several  of  the  following  pages  will  be  found  also  in  the 
printed  account  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Massachusetts  convention,  in  some 
remarks  made  by  the  author  a  few  days  before  the  delivery  of  this  discourse. 
As  those  remarks  were  originally  written  for  this  discourse,  it  was  thought 
proper  not  to  omit  them,  in  the  publication,  notwithstanding  this  circumstance. 


53 

ment  rests,  not  more  on  political  Constitutions,  than 
on  those  laws  which  regulate  the  descent  and 
transmission  of  property. — Governments  like  ours 
could  not  have  been  maintained,  where  property 
was  holden  according  to  the  principles  of  the  feu 
dal  system;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  could  the  feu 
dal  Constitution  possibly  exist  with  us.  Our  New 
England  ancestors  brought  hither  no  great  capitals 
from  Europe;  and  if  they  had,  there  was  nothing 
productive,  in  which  they  could  have  been  invested. 
They  left  behind  them  the  whole  feudal  policy  of 
the  other  continent.  They  broke  away,  at  once, 
from  the  system  of  military  service,  established  in 
the  dark  ages,  and  which  continues,  down  even  to 
the  present  time,  more  or  less  to  affect  the  condi 
tion  of  property  all  over  Europe.  They  came  to  a 
new  country.  There  were,  as  yef,  no  lands  yield 
ing  rent,  and  no  tenants  rendering  service.  The 
whole  soil  was  unreclaimed  from  barbarism.  They 
were  themselves,  either  from  their  original  condi 
tion,  or  from  the  necessity  of  their  common  interest, 
nearly  on  a  general  level,  in  respect  to  property. 
Their  situation  demanded  a  parcelling  out  and  di 
vision  of  the  lands  ;  and  it  rn^ay  be  fairly  said,  that 
this  necessary  act  fixed  the  future  frame  and  form 
of  their  government.  The  character  of  their  politi 
cal  institutions  was  determined  by  the  fundamental 
laws  respecting  property.  The  laws  rendered  es 
tates  divisible  among  sons  and  daughters.  The  right 
of  primogeniture,  at  first  limited  and  curtailed,  was 


54 

afterwards  abolished.  The  property  was  all  free 
hold.  The  entailment  of  estates,  long  trusts,  and  the 
other  processes  for  fettering  and  tying  up  inheritan 
ces,  were  not  applicable  to  the  condition  of  society, 
and  seldom  made  use  of.  On  the  contrary,  aliena 
tion  of  the  land  was  every  way  facilitated,  even  to 
the  subjecting  of  it  to  every  species  of  debt.  The 
establishment  of  public  registries,  and  the  simplicity 
of  our  forms  of  conveyance,  have  greatly  facilitated 
the  change  of  real  estate,  from  one  proprietor  to 
another.  The  consequence  of  all  these  causes  has 
been,  a  great  subdivision  of  the  soil,  and  a  great 
equality  of  condition  ;  the  true  basis  most  certainly 
of  a  popular  government. — "  If  the  people,"  says 
Harrington,  "  hold  three  parts  in  four  of  the  terri 
tory,  it  is  plain  there  can  neither  be  any  single  per 
son  nor  nobility  able  to  dispute  the  government  with 
them ;  in  this  case  therefore,  except  force  be  interpos 
ed,  they  govern  themselves." 

The  history  of  other  nations  may  teach  us  how 
favourable  to  public  liberty  is  the  division  of  the 
soil  into  small  freeholds,  and  a  system  of  laws,  of 
which  the  tendency  is,  without  violence  or  injustice, 
to  produce  and  to  preserve  a  degree  of  equality  of 
property.  It  has  been  estimated,  if  I  mistake  not, 
that  about  the  time  of  Henry  the  VII.,  four  fifths 
of  the  land  in  England,  was  holden  by  the  great 
barons  and  ecclesiastics.  The  effects  of  a  growing 
commerce  soon  afterwards  began  to  break  in  on  this 

o 

state  of  things,  and  before  the  revolution  in  1688  a 


55 

vast  change  had  been  wrought.  It  may  be  thought 
probable,  that,  for  the  last  half  century,  the  process 
of  subdivision  in  England,  has  been  retarded,  if  not 
reversed ;  that  the  great  weight  of  taxation  has 
compelled  many  of  the  lesser  freeholders  to  dispose 
of  their  estates,  and  to  seek  employment  in  the 
army  and  navy ;  in  the  professions  of  civil  life  ;  in 
commerce  or  in  the  colonies.  The  effect  of  this  on 
the  British  Constitution  cannot  but  be  most  unfa 
vourable.  A  few  large  estates  grow  larger ;  but 
the  number  of  those  who  have  no  estates  also  in 
creases  ;  and  there  may  be  danger,  lest  the  inequal 
ity  of  property  become  so  great,  that  those  who 
possess  it  may  be  dispossessed  by  force ;  in  other 
words  that  the  government  may  be  overturned. 

A  most  interesting  experiment  of  the  effect  of  a 
subdivision  of  property  on  government,  is  now  mak 
ing  in  France.  It  is  understood,  that  the  law  regu 
lating  the  transmission  of  property,  in  that  country, 
now  divides  it,  real  and  personal,  among  all  the  chil 
dren,  equally,  both  sons  and  daughters ;  and  that 
there  is,  also,  a  very  great  restraint  on  the  power  of 
making  dispositions  of  property  by  will.  It  has 
been  supposed,  that  the  effects  of  this  might  proba 
bly  be,  in  time,  to  break  up  the  soil  into  such  small 
subdivisions,  that  the  proprietors  would  be  too  poor 
to  resist  the  encroachments  of  executive  power.  I 
think  far  otherwise.  What  is  lost  in  individual 
wealth,  will  be  more  than  gained,  in  numbers,  in  in 
telligence,  and  in  a  sympathy  of  sentiment  If  in- 


56 

deed,  only  one,  or  a  few  landholders  were  to  resist 
the  crown,  like  the  barons  of  England,  they  must, 
of  course,  be  great  and  powerful  landholders  with 
multitudes  of  retainers,  to  promise  success.  But  if 
the  proprietors  of  a  given  extent  of  territory  are 
summoned  to  resistance,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  such  resistance  would  be  less  forcible,  or  less 
successful,  because  the  number  of  such  proprietors 
should  be  great.  Each  would  perceive  his  own  im 
portance,  and  his  own  interest,  and  would  feel  that 
natural  elevation  of  character  which  the  conscious 
ness  of  property  inspires.  A  common  sentiment  would 
unite  all,  and  numbers  would  not  only  add  strength, 
but  excite  enthusiasm.  It  is  true,  that  France 
possesses  a  vast  military  force,  under  the  direction 
of  an  hereditary  executive  government;  and  military 
power,  it  is  possible,  may  overthrow  any  government. 
It  is,  in  vain,  however,  in  this  period  of  the  world,  to 
look  for  security  against  military  power,  to  the  arm  of 
the  great  landholders.  That  notion  is  derived  from 
a  state  of  things  long  since  past ;  a  state  in  which  a 
feudal  baron,  with  his  retainers,  might  stand  against 
the  sovereign,  who  was  himself  but  the  greatest 
baron,  and  his  retainers.  But  at  present,  what  could 
the  richest  landholder  do,  against  one  regiment  of  dis 
ciplined  troops?  Other  securities,  therefore,  against 
the  prevalence  of  military  power  must  be  provided. 
Happily  for  us,  we  are  not  so  situated  as  that  any 
purpose  of  national  defence  requires,  ordinarily  and 
constantly,  such  a  military  force  as  might  seriously 
endanger  our  liberties. 


57 

in  respect,  however,  to  the  recent  law  of  succes 
sion  in  France,  to  which  I  have  alluded,  I  would, 
presumptuously  perhaps,  hazard  a  conjecture,  that 
if  the  government  do  not  change  the  law,  the  law, 
in  half  a  century,  will  change  the  government;  and 
that  this  change  will  be  not  in  favour  of  the  power 
of  the  crown,  as  some  European  writers  have  sup 
posed;  but  against  it.  Those  writers  only  reason 
upon  what  they  think  correct  general  principles,  in 
relation  to  this  subject.  They  acknowledge  a  want 
of  experience.  Here  we  have  had  that  experience; 
and  we  know  that  a  multitude  of  small  proprietors, 
acting  with  intelligence,  and  that  enthusiasm  which 
a  common  cause  inspires,  constitute  not  only  a  formi 
dable,  but  an  invincible  power. 

The  true  principle  of  a  free  and  popular  govern 
ment  would  seem  to  be,  so  to  construct  it,  as  to  give 
to  all,  or  at  least  to  a  very  great  majority,  an  inter 
est  in  its  preservation :  to  found  it,  as  other  things 
are  founded,  on  men's  interest.  The  stability  of 
government  requires  that  those  who  desire  its  con 
tinuance  should  be  more  powerful  than  those  who 
desire  its  dissolution.  This  power,  of  course,  is  not 
always  to  be  measured  by  mere  numbers. — Educa 
tion,  wealth,  talents,  are  all  parts  and  elements  of 
the  general  aggregate  of  power;  but  numbers,  never 
theless,  constitute  ordinarily  the  most  important  con 
sideration,  unless  indeed  there  be  a  military  force,  in 
the  hands  of  the  few,  by  which  they  can  controul  the 
many.  In  this  country  we  have  actually  existing 
3 


58 

systems  of  government,  in  the  maintenance  of  which, 
it  should  seem,  a  great  majority,  both  in  numbers 
and  in  other  means  of  power  and  influence,  must  see 
their  interest.  But  this  state  of  things  is  not  brought 
about  solely  by  written  political  constitutions,  or  the 
mere  manner  of  organizing  the  government :  but  also 
by  the  laws  which  regulate  the  descent  and  trans 
mission  of  property.  The  freest  government,  if  it 
could  exist,  would  not  be  long  acceptable,  if  the 
tendency  of  the  laws  were  to  create  a  rapid  accu 
mulation  of  property  in  few  hands,  and  to  render 
the  great  mass  of  the  population  dependent  and 
pennyless.  In  such  a  case,  the  popular  power  would 
be  likely  to  break  in  upon  the  rights  of  property,  or 
else  the  influence  of  property  to  limit  and  controul 
the  exercise  of  popular  power. — Universal  suffrage, 
for  example,  could  not  long  exist  in  a  community, 
where  there  was  great  inequality  of  property.  The 
holders  of  estates  would  be  obliged  in  such  case, 
either,  in  some  way,  to  restrain  the  right  of  suffrage  ; 
or  else  such  right  of  suffrage  would,  long  before,  di 
vide  the  property.  In  the  nature  of  things,  those 
who  have  not  property,  and  see  their  neighbours 
possess  much  more  than  they  think  them  to  need, 
cannot  be  favourable  to  laws  made  for  the  protec 
tion  of  property.  When  this  class  becomes  numer 
ous,  it  grows  clamorous.  It  looks  on  property  as  its 
prey  axnd  plunder,  and  is  naturally  ready,  at  all 
times,  for  violence  and  revolution. 

It  would  seem,  then,  to  be  the  part  of  political 


59 

wisdom,  to  found  government  on  property ;  and  to 
establish  such  distribution  of  property,  by  the  laws 
which  regulate  its  transmission  and  alienation,  as  to 
interest  the  great  majority  of  society  in  the  support 
of  the  government.  This  is,  I  imagine,  the  true 
theory  and  the  actual  practice  of  our  republican  in 
stitutions.  With  property  divided,  as  we  have  it, 
no  other  government  than  that  of  a  republic  could 
be  maintained,  even  were  we  foolish  enough  to  desire 
it.  There  is  reason,  therefore,  to  expect  a  long  con 
tinuance  of  our  systems.  Party  and  passion,  doubtless, 
may  prevail  at  times,  and  much  temporary  mischief 
be  done.  Even  modes  and  forms  may  be  changed, 
and  perhaps  for  the  worse.  But  a  great  revolution, 
in  regard  to  property,  must  take  place,  before  our 
governments  can  be  moved  from  their  republican 
basis,  unless  they  be  violently  struck  off  by  military 
power.  The  people  possess  the  property,  more 
emphatically  than  it  could  ever  be  said  of  the  peo 
ple  of  any  other  country,  and  they  can  have  no  in 
terest  to  overturn  a  government  which  protects  that 
property  by  equal  laws. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  that  this  state  of  things 
possesses  too  strong  tendencies  towards  the  produc 
tion  of  a  dead  and  uninteresting  level  in  society. 
Such  tendencies  are  sufficiently  counteracted  by  the 
infinite  diversities  in  the  characters  and  fortunes  of 
individuals.  Talent,  activity,  industry,  and  enter- 
prize  tend  at  all  times  to  produce  inequality  and 
distinction ;  and  there  is  room  still  for  the  accumula- 


60 

tion  of  wealth,  with  its  great  advantages,  to  all  rea 
sonable  and  useful  extent.  It  has  been  often  urged 
against  the  state  of  society  in  America,  that  it  fur 
nishes  no  class  of  men  of  fortune  and  leisure.  This 
may  be  partly  true,  but  it  is  not  entirely  so,  and  the 
evil,  if  it  be  one,  would  affect  rather  the  progress 
of  taste  and  literature,  than  the  general  prosperity 
of  the  people.  But  the  promotion  of  taste  and 
literature  cannot  be  primary  objects  of  political  in 
stitutions;  and  if  they  could,  it  might  be  doubted, 
whether,  in  the  long  course  of  things,  as  much  is 
not  gained  by  a  wide  diffusion  of  general  knowledge, 
as  is  lost  by  abridging  the  number  of  those  whom 
fortune  and  leisure  enable  to  devote  themselves  ex 
clusively  to  scientific  and  literary  pursuits.  How 
ever  this  may  be,  it  is  to  be  considered  that  it  is  the 
spirit  of  our  system  to  be  equal,  and  general,  and  if 
there  be  particular  disadvantages  incident  to  this, 
they  are  far  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  ben 
efits  which  weigh  against  them.  The  important 
concerns  of  society  are  generally  conducted,  in  all 
countries,  by  the  men  of  business  and  practical  abili 
ty  ;  and  even  in  matters  of  taste  and  literature,  the 
advantages  of  mere  leisure  are  liable  to  be  over 
rated.  If  there  exist  adequate  means  of  education, 
and  the  love  of  letters  be  excited,  that  love  will  find 
its  way  to  the  object  of  its  desire,  through  the  crowd 
and  pressure  of  the  most  busy  society. 

Connected  with  this  division  of  property,  and  the 
consequent  participation  of  the  great  mass  of  people. 


61 

in  its  possession  and  enjoyments,  is  the  system  of  re 
presentation,  which  is  admirably  accommodated  to 
our  condition,  better  understood  among  us,  and  more 
familiarly  and  extensively  practised,  in  the  higher 
and  in  the  lower  departments  of  government,  than 
it  has  been  with  any  other  people.  Great  facility 
has  been  given  to  this  in  New-England  by  the  early 
division  of  the  country  into  townships  or  small  dis 
tricts,  in  which  all  concerns  of  local  police  are  regu 
lated,  and  in  which  representatives  to  the  Legislature 
are  elected.  Nothing  can  exceed  the  utility  of  these 
little  bodies.  They  are  so  many  Councils,  or  Par 
liaments,  in  which  common  interests  are  discussed, 
and  useful  knowledge  acquired  and  communicated. 

The  division  of  governments  into  departments, 
and  the  division,  again,  of  the  legislative  department 
into  two  chambers,  are  essential  provisions  in  our 
systems.  This  last,  although  not  new  in  itself,  yet 
seems  to  be  new  in  its  application  to  governments 
wholly  popular.  The  Grecian  Republics,  it  is  plain, 
knew  nothing  of  it ;  and  in  Rome,  the  check  and 
balance  of  legislative  power,  such  as  it  was,  lay  be 
tween  the  People  and  the  Senate.  Indeed  few 
things  are  more  difficult  than  to  ascertain  accurately 
the  true  nature  and  construction  of  the  Roman 
Commonwealth.  The  relative  power  of  the  Senate 
and  the  People,  the  Consuls  and  the  Tribunes,  ap 
pears  not  to  have  been  at  all  times  the  same,  nor  at 
any  time  accurately  defined  or  strictly  observed.  Ci 
cero,  indeed,  describes  to  us  an  admirable  arrange- 


62 

tnent  of  political  power,  and  a  balance  of  the  consti- 
tion,  in  that  beautiful  passage,  in  which  he  compares 
the  democracies  of  Greece  with  the  Roman  Com 
monwealth.  "  O  morem  praeclarum,  disciplinamque, 
quam  a  majoribus  accepimus,  si  quidem  teneremus  !  sed 
nescio  quo  pacto  jam  de  manibus  elabitur.  Nullam 
enim  illi  nostri  sapientissimi  et  sanctissimi  viri  vim 
concionis  esse  voluerunt,  quae  scisseret  plebs,  aut  quae 
populus  juberet ;  summota  condone,  distributis  partibus, 
tributim,  et  centuriatim,  descriptis  ordinibus,  classibus, 
cetatibus,  auditis  auctoribus^  re  multos  dies  promulgata 
et  cognita,  juberi  vetarique  voluerunt.  Graecorum  au- 
tem  totae  respublicae  sedentis  concionis  temeritate  ad- 
ministrantur" 

But  at  what  time  this  wise  system  existed  in  this 
perfection  at  Rome,  no  proofs  remain  to  show.  Her 
constitution,  originally  framed  for  a  monarchy,  never 
seemed  to  be  adjusted,  in  its  several  parts,  after  the 
expulsion  of  the  kings.  Liberty  there  was,  but  it 
was  a  disputatious,  an  uncertain,  an  ill-secured  liberty. 
The  patrician  and  plebeian  orders,  instead  of  being 
matched  and  joined,  each  in  its  just  place  and  pro 
portion,  to  sustain  the  fabric  of  the  state,  were 
rather  like  hostile  powers,  in  perpetual  conflict. 
With  us,  an  attempt  has  been  made,  and  so  far  not 
without  success,  to  divide  representation  into  Cham 
bers,  and  by  difference  of  age,  character,  qualification 
or  mode  of  election,  to  establish  salutary  checks,  in 
governments  altogether  elective 


63 

Having  detained  you  so  long  with  these  observa 
tions,  I  must  yet  advert  to  another  most  interesting 
topic,  the  FREE  SCHOOLS.  In  this  particular  New- 
England  may  be  allowed  to  claim,  I  think,  a  merit  of 
a  peculiar  character.  She  early  adopted  and  has 
constantly  maintained  the  principle,  that  it  is  the  un 
doubted  right,  and  the  bounden  duty  of  government, 
to  provide  for  the  instruction  of  all  youth.  That 
which  is  elsewhere  left  to  chance,  or  to  charity,  we 
secure  by  law.  For  the  purpose  of  public  instruc 
tion,  we  hold  every  man  subject  to  taxation  in  pro 
portion  to  his  property,  and  we  look  not  to  the  ques 
tion,  whether  he  himself  have,  or  have  not,  children 
to  be  benefited  by  the  education  for  which  he  pays. 
We  regard  it  as  a  wise  and  liberal  system  of  police, 
by  which  property,  and  life,  and  the  peace  of  socie 
ty  are  secured.  We  seek  to  prevent,  in  some  mea 
sure,  the  extension  of  the  penal  code,  by  inspiring  a 
salutary  and  conservative  principle  of  virtue  and  of 
knowledge  in  an  early  age.  We  hope  to  excite  a 
feeling  of  respectability,  and  a  sense  of  character, 
by  enlarging  the  capacity,  and  increasing  the  sphere 
of  intellectual  enjoyment.  By  general  instruction, 
we  seek,  as  far  as  possible,  to  purify  the  whole  moral 
atmosphere  ;  to  keep  good  sentiments  uppermost,  and 
to  turn  the  strong  current  of  feeling  and  opinion,  as 
well  as  the  censures  of  the  law,  and  the  denuncia 
tions  of  religion,  against  immorality  and  crime.  We 
hope  for  a  security,  beyond  the  law,  and  above  the 
law,  in  the  prevalence  of  enlightened  and  well  prin- 


64 

cipled  moral  sentiment.  We  hope  to  continue  and 
prolong  the  time,  when,  in  the  villages  and  farm 
houses  of  New-England,  there  may  be  undisturbed 
sleep  within  unbarred  doors.  Arid  knowing  that  our 
government  rests  directly  on  the  public  will,  that  we 
may  preserve  it,  we  endeavour  to  give  a  safe  and 
proper  direction  to  that  public  will.  We  do  not,  in 
deed,  expect  all  men  to  be  philosophers  or  states 
men  ;  but  we  confidently  trust,  and  our  expectation 
of  the  duration  of  our  system  of  government  rests  on 
that  trust,  that  by  the  diffusion  of  general  knowledge 
arid  good  and  virtuous  sentiments,  the  political  fa 
bric  may  be  secure,  as  well  against  open  violence 

and  overthrow,  as  against  the  slow  but  sure   under- 

r  r 
mining  ot  licentiousness. 

We  know,  that  at  the  present  time,  an  attempt  is 
making  in  the  English  Parliament  to  provide  by  law 
for  the  education  of  the  poor,  and  that  a  gentleman 
of  distinguished  character,  (Mr.  Brougham)  has 
taken  the  lead,  in  presenting  a  plan  to  government 
for  carrying  that  purpose  into  effect.  And  yet,  al 
though  the  representatives  of  the  three  kingdoms 
listened  to  him  with  astonishment  as  well  as  delight, 
we  hear  no  principles,  with  which  we  ourselves  have 
not  been  familiar  from  jouth  ;  we  see  nothing  in  the 
plan,  but  an  approach  towards  that  system  which  has 
been  established  in  New-England  for  more  than  a 
century  and  a  half.  It  is  said  that  in  England,  not 
more  than  one  child  in  fifteen  possesses  the  means  of 
being  taught  to  read  and  write ;  in  Wales,  one  in 


65 

twenty  ;  in  France,  until  lately,  when  some  improve 
ment  has  been  made,  not  more  than  one  in  thirty-Jive. 
Now,  it  is  hardly  too  strong  to  say,  that  in  New-En 
gland,  every  child  possesses  such  means.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  find  an  instance  to  the  contrary,  unless 
where  it  should  be  owing  to  the  negligence  of  the 
parent ; — and  in  truth  the  means  are  actually  used 
and  enjoyed  by  nearly  every  one.  A  youth  of  fif 
teen,  of  either  sex,  who  cannot  both  read  and  write, 
is  very  unfrequently  to  be  found.  Who  can  make 
this  comparison,  or  contemplate  this  spectacle,  with 
out  delight  and  a  feeling  of  just  pride  ?  Does  any 
history  shew  property  more  beneficently  applied  ? 
Did  any  government  ever  subject  the  property  of 
those  who  have  estates,  to  a  burden,  for  a  purpose 
more  favourable  to  the  poor,  or  more  useful  to  the 
whole  community  ? 

A  conviction  of  the  importance  of  public  instruc 
tion  was  one  of  the  earliest  sentiments  of  our  ances 
tors.  No  lawgiver  of  ancient  or  modern  times  has 
expressed  more  just  opinions,  or  adopted  wiser  mea 
sures,  than  the  early  records  of  the  Colony  of  Ply 
mouth  show  to  have  prevailed  here.  Assembled  on 
this  very  spot,  a  hundred  and  fifty-three  years  ago, 
the  legislature  of  this  Colony  declared  ;  "  For  as 
much  as  the  maintenance  of  good  literature  doth 
much  tend  to  the  advancement  of  the  weal  and  flour 
ishing  state  of  Societies  and  Republics,  this  Court 
doth  therefore  order,  that  in  whatever  township  in 
this  government,  consisting  of  fifty  families  or  up- 
9 


66 

wards,  any  meet  man  shall  be  obtained  to  teach  a 
grammar  school,  such  township  shall  allow  at  least 
twelve  pounds,  to  be  raised  by  rate,  on  all  the  inha 
bitants." 

Having  provided,  that  all  youth  should  be  instruct 
ed  in  the  elements  of  learning  by  the  institution  of 
Free  Schools,  our  ancestors  had  yet  another  duty  to 
perform.  Men  were  to  be  educated  for  the  profes 
sions,  and  the  public.  For  this  purpose  they  found 
ed  the  University,  and  with  incredible  zeal  and  per 
severance  they  cherished  and  supported  it,  through 
all  trials  and  discouragements.  On  the  subject  of 
the  University,  it  is  not  possible  for  a  son  of  New- 
England  to  think  without  pleasure,  nor  to  speak 
without  emotion.  Nothing  confers  more  honour  on 
the  state  where  it  is  established,  or  more  utility  on 
the  country  at  large.  A  respectable  University  is 
an  establishment,  which  must  be  the  work  of  time. 
If  pecuniary  means  were  not  wanting,  no  new  insti 
tution  could  possess  character  and  respectability  at 
once.  We  owe  deep  obligation  to  our  ancestors  ? 
who  began,  almost  on  the  moment  of  their  arrival, 
the  work  of  building  up  this  institution. 

Although  established  in  a  different  government, 
the  Colony  of  Plymouth  manifested  warm  friendship 
for  Harvard  College.  At  an  early  period,  its  go 
vernment  took  measures  to  promote  a  general  sub 
scription  throughout  all  the  towns  in  this  Colony,  in 
aid  of  its  small  funds.  Other  Colleges  were  subse 
quently  founded  and  endowed,  in  other  places,  as  the 


C7 

ability  of  the  people  allowed ;  and  we  may  flatter 
ourselves,  that  the  means  of  education,  at  present 
enjoyed  in  New-England,  are  not  only  adequate  to 
the  diffusion  of  the  elements  of  knowledge  among 
all  classes,  but  sufficient  also  for  respectable  attain 
ments  in  literature  and  the  sciences. 

Lastly,  our  ancestors  have  founded  their  system 
of  government  on  morality  and  religious  sentiment. 
Moral  habits,  they  believed,  cannot  safely  be  trust 
ed  on  any  other  foundation  than  religious  principle, 
nor  any  government  be  secure  which  is  not  support 
ed  by  moral  habits.  Living  under  the  heavenly 
light  of  revelation,  they  hoped  to  find  all  the  social 
dispositions,  all  the  duties  which  men  owe  to  each 
other,  and  to  society,  enforced  and  performed. 
Whatever  makes  men  good  christians,  makes  them 
good  citizens.  Our  fathers  came  here  to  enjoy  their 
religion  free  and  unmolested  ;  and,  at  the  end  of  two 
centuries,  there  is  nothing  upon  which  we  can  pro 
nounce  more  confidently,  nothing  of  which  we  can 
express  a  more  deep  and  earnest  conviction,  than  of 
the  inestimable  importance  of  that  religion  to  man, 
both  in  regard  to  this  life,  and  that  which  is  to  come. 

If  the  blessings  of  our  political  and  social  condition 
have  not  now  been  too  highly  estimated,  we  cannot 
well  over-rate  the  responsibility  and  duty  which  they 
impose  upon  us.  We  hold  these  institutions  of  go 
vernment,  religion,  and  learning,  to  be  transmitted, 
as  well  as  enjoyed.  We  are  in  the  line  of  convey 
ance,  through  which  whatever  has  been  obtained  by 


68 

the  spirit  and  efforts  of  our  ancestors,  is  to  be  com 
municated  to  our  children.  ,..ftlj 

We  are  bound  to  maintain  public  liberty,  and  by 
the  example  of  our  own  systems,  to  convince  the 
world,  that  order,  and  law,  religion,  and  morality, 
the  rights  of  conscience,  the  rights  of  persons,  and 
the  rights  of  property,  may  all  be  preserved  and  se 
cured,  in  the  most  perfect  manner,  by  a  government 
entirely  and  purely  elective.  If  we  fail  in  this,  our 
disaster  will  be  signal,  and  will  furnish  an  argument, 
st/onger  than  has  yet  been  found,  in  support  of  those 
opinions,  which  maintain  that  government  can  rest 
safely  on  nothing  but  power  and  coercion.  As  far 
as  experience  may  show  errors  in  our  establishments, 
we  are  bound  to  correct  them ;  and  if  any  practices 
exist,  contrary  to  the  principles  of  justice  and  hu 
manity,  within  the  reach  of  our  laws  or  our  influence, 
we  are  inexcusable  if  we  do  not  exert  ourselves  to 
restrain  and  abolish  them. 

I  deem  it  my  duty  on  this  occasion  to  suggest,  that 
the  land  is  not  wholly  free  from  the  contamination 
of  a  traffic,  at  which  every  feeling  of  humanity  must 
forever  revolt — I  mean  the  African  slave  trade. 
Neither  public  sentiment,  nor  the  law,  has  hitherto 
been  able  entirely  to  put  an  end  to  this  odious  and 
abominable  trade.  At  the  moment  when  God,  in 
his  mercy,  has  blessed  the  Christian  world  with  an 
universal  peace,  there  is  reason  to  fear,  that  to  the 
disgrace  of  the  Christian  name  and  character,  new 
efforts  are  making  for  the  extension  of  this  trade,  by 
subjects  and  citizens  of  Christian  states,  in  whose 


69 


hearts  no  sentiment  of  humanity  or  justice  inhabits, 
and  over  whom  neither  the  fear  of  God  nor  the  fear 
of  man  exercises  a  controul.  In  the  sight  of  our 
law,  the  African  slave  trader  is  a  pirate  and  a  felon ; 
and  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  an  offender  far  beyond 
the  ordinary  depth  of  human  guilt.  There  is  no 
brighter  part  of  our  history,  than  that  which  records 
the  measures  which  have  been  adopted  by  the  go 
vernment,  at  an  early  day,  and  at  different  times 
since,  for  the  suppression  of  this  traffic ;  and  I  would 
call  on  all  the  true  sons  of  New-England,  to  co-ope 
rate  with  the  laws  of  man,  and  the  justice  of  heaven. 
If  there  be,  within  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  or 
influence,  any  participation  in  this  traffic,  let  us 
pledge  ourselves  here,  upon  the  Rock  of  Plymouth, 
to  extirpate  and  destroy  it.  It  is  not  fit,  that  the 
land  of  the  Pilgrims  should  bear  the  shame  longer. 
I  hear  the  sound  of  the  hammer,  I  see  the  smoke 
of  the  furnaces  where  manacles  and  fetters  are  still 
forged  for  human  lirnbs.  I  see  the  visages  of  those, 
who  by  stealth,  and  at  midnight,  labour  in  this  work 
of  hell,  foul  and  dark,  as  may  become  the  artificers 
of  such  instruments  of  misery  and  torture.  Let  that 
spot  be  purified,  or  let  it  cease  to  be  of  New-En 
gland.  Let  it  be  purified,  or  let  it  be  set  aside  from 
the  Christian  world  ;  let  it  be  put  out  of  the  circle 
of  human  sympathies  and  human  regards,  and  let 
civilized  man  henceforth  have  no  communion  with  it. 
I  would  invoke  those  who  fill  the  seats  of  justice, 
and  all  who  minister  at  her  altar,  that  they  execute 
the  wholesome  and  necessary  severity  of  the  law.  I 


70 

invoke  the  ministers  of  our  religion,  that  they  pro 
claim  its  denunciation  of  these  crimes,  and  add  its 
solemn  sanctions  to  the  authority  of  human  laws.  If 
the  pulpit  be  silent,  whenever,  or  wherever,  there 
may  be  a  sinner  bloody  with  this  guilt,  within  the 
hearing  of  its  voice,  the  pulpit  is  false  to  its  trust. 
I  call  on  the  fair  merchant,  who  has  reaped  his  har 
vest  upon  the  seas,  that  he  assist  in  scourging  from 
those  seas  the  worst  pirates  which  ever  infested 
them.  That  ocean,  which  seems  to  wave  with  a 
gentle  magnificence  to  waft  the  burdens  of  an  hon 
est  commerce,  and  to  roll  along  its  treasures  with  a 
conscious  pride;  that  ocean,  which  hardy  industry 
regards,  even  when  the  winds  have  ruffled  its  sur 
face,  as  a  field  of  grateful  toil ;  what  is  it  to  the  vic 
tim  of  this  oppression,  when  he  is  brought  to  its 
shores,  and  looks  forth  upon  it,  for  the  first  time, 
from  beneath  chains,  and  bleeding  with  stripes  ? 
What  is  it  to  him,  but  a  wide  spead  prospect  of  suf 
fering,  anguish,  and  death?  Nor  do  the  skies  smile 
longer,  nor  is  the  air  longer  fragrant  to  him.  The 
sun  is  cast  down  from  heaven.  An  inhuman  and  ac 
cursed  traffic  has  cut  him  oil*  in  his  manhood,  or  in 
his  youth,  from  every  enjoyment  belonging  to  his 
being,  and  every  blessing  which  his  Creator  intend 
ed  for  him. 

The  Christian  communities  send  forth  their  emis 
saries  of  religion  and  letters,  who  stop,  here  and 
there  along  the  coast  of  the  vast  continent  of  Africa, 
and  with  painful  and  tedious  efforts,  make  some  al 
most  imperceptible  progress  in  the  communication 


71 

of  knowledge,  and  in  the  general  improvement  of 
the  natives  who  are  immediately  about  them.  Not 
thus  slow  and  imperceptible  is  the  transmission  of 
the  vices  and  bad  passions  which  the  subjects  of 
Christian  states  carry  to  the  land.  The  slave  trade 
having  touched  the  coast,  its  influence  and  its  evils 
spread,  like  a  pestilence,  over  the  whole  continent, 
making  savage  wars  more  savage,  and  more  frequent, 
and  adding  new  and  fierce  passions  to  the  contests 
of  barbarians. 

I  pursue  this  topic  no  further ;  except  again  to 
say,  that  all  Christendom  being  now  blessed  with 
peace,  is  bound  by  every  thing  which  belongs  to  its 
character,  and  to  the  character  of  the  present  age, 
to  put  a  stop  to  this  inhuman  and  disgraceful  traffic. 

We  are  bound  not  only  to  maintain  the  general 
principles  of  public  liberty,  but  to  support  also  those 
existing  forms  of  government,  which  have  so  well 
secured  its  enjoyment,  and  so  highly  promoted  the 
public  prosperity.  It  is  now  more  than  thirty  years 
that  these  States  have  been  united  under  the  Fede- 
lar  Constitution,  and  whatever  fortune  may  await 
them  hereafter,  it  is  impossible  that  this  period  of 
their  history  should  not  be  regarded  as  distinguish 
ed  by  signal  prosperity  and  success.  They  must  be 
sanguine,  indeed,  who  can  hope  for  benefit  from 
change.  Whatever  division  of  the  public  judgment 
may  have  existed  in  relation  to  particular  measure^ 
of  the  government,  all  must  agree,  one  should  think, 
in  the  opinion,  that  in  its  general  course  it  has  been 
eminently  productive  of  public  happiness,  fts  most 


ardent  friends  could  not  well  have  hoped  from  it 
more  than  it  has  accomplished  ;  and  those  who  dis 
believed  or  doubted  ought  to  feel  less  concern  about 
predictions,  which  the  event  has  not  verified,  than 
pleasure  in  the  good  which  has  been  obtained.  Who 
ever  shall  hereafter  write  this  part  of  our  history, 
although  he  may  see  occasional  errors  or  defects, 
will  be  able  to  record  no  great  failure  in  the  ends 
and  objects  of  government.  Still  less  will  he  be 
able  to  record  any  series  of  lawless  and  despotic  acts, 
or  any  successful  usurpation.  His  page  will  contain 
no  exhibition  of  provinces  depopulated,  of  civil  au 
thority  habitually  trampled  down  by  military  power, 
or  of  a  community  crushed  by  the  burden  of  taxa 
tion.  He  will  speak,  rather,  of  public  liberty  pro 
tected,  and  public  happiness  advanced ;  of  increased 
revenue,  and  population  augmented  beyond  all  ex 
ample  ;  of  the  growth  of  commerce,  manufactures, 
and  the  arts ;  and  of  that  happy  condition,  in  which 
the  restraint  and  coercion  of  government  are  almost 
invisible  and  imperceptible,  and  its  influence  felt  only 
in  the  benefits  which  it  confers.  We  can  entertain 
no  better  wish  for  our  own  country  than  that  this 
government  may  be  preserved;  nor  have  we  a 
clearer  duty  than  to  maintain  and  support  it  in  the 
full  exercise  of  all  its  just  constitutional  powers. 

The  cause  of  science  and  literature  also  imposes 
upon  us  an  important  and  delicate  trust.  The  wealth 
and  population  of  the  country  are  now  so  far  ad 
vanced,  as  to  authorize  the  expectation  of  a  correct 
literature,  and  a  well  formed  taste,  as  well  as  respect- 


73 

able  progress  in  the  abstruse  sciences.  The  country 
has  risen  from  a  state  of  colonial  dependency ;  it 
has  established  an  independent  government,  and  is 
now  in  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  peace  and  po 
litical  security.  The  elements  of  knowledge  are 
universally  diffused,  and  the  reading  portion  of  the 
community  large.  Let  us  hope  that  the  present 
may  be  an  auspicious  era  of  literature.  If,  almost 
on  the  day  of  their  landing,  our  ancestors  founded 
schools  and  endowed  colleges,  what  obligations  do 
not  rest  upon  us,  living  under  circumstances  so  much 
more  favourable  both  for  providing  and  for  using  the 
means  of  education  ?  Literature  becomes  free  in 
stitutions.  It  is  the  graceful  ornament  of  civil  liber 
ty,  and  a  happy  restraint  on  the  asperities,  which 
political  controversy  sometimes  occasions.  Just  taste 
is  not  only  an  embellishment  of  society,  but  it  rises 
almost  to  the  rank  of  the  virtues,  and  diffuses  posi 
tive  good  throughout  the  whole  extent  of  its  influ 
ence.  There  is  a  connexion  between  right  feeling 
and  right  principles,  and  truth  in  taste  is  allied  with 
truth  in  morality.  With  nothing  in  our  past  history 
to  discourage  us,  and  with  something  in  our  present 
condition  and  prospects  to  animate  us,  let  us  hope, 
that  as  it  is  our  fortune  to  live  in  an  age  when  we 
may  behold  a  wonderful  advancement  of  the  country 
in  all  its  other  great  interests,  we  may  see  also  equal 
progress  and  success  attend  the  cause  of  letters. 

Finally,  let  us  not  forget  the  religious   character 
of  our  origin.     Our  fathers  were  brought  hither  by 
10 


74 

their  high  veneration  for  the  Christian  Religion. 
They  journeyed  by  its  light,  and  laboured  in  its 
hope.  They  sought  to  incorporate  its  principles 
with  the  elements  of  their  society,  and  to  diffuse  its 
influence  through  all  their  institutions,  civil,  political, 
or  literary.  Let  us  cherish  these  sentiments,  and 
extend  this  influence  still  more  widely ;  in  the  full 
conviction,  that  that  is  the  happiest  society,  which 
partakes  in  the  highest  degree  of  the  mild  and 
peaceable  spirit  of  Christianity. 

The  hours  of  this  day  are  rapidly  flying,  and  this 
occasion  will  soon  be  passed.  Neither  we  nor  our 
children  can  expect  to  behold  its  return.  They  are 
in  the  distant  regions  of  futurity,  they  exist  only  in 
the  all-creating  power  of  God,  who  shall  stand  here, 
a  hundred  years  hence,  to  trace,  through  us,  their  de 
scent  from  the  Pilgrims,  and  to  survey,  as  we  have  now 
surveyed,  the  progress  of  their  country,  during  the 
lapse  of  a  century.  We  would  anticipate  their  concur 
rence  with  us  in  our  sentiments  of  deep  regard  for  our 
common  ancestors.  We  would  anticipate  and  partake 
the  pleasure  with  which  they  will  then  recount  the 
steps  of  New-England's  advancement.  On  the  morning 
of  that  day,  although  it  will  not  disturb  us  in  our  re 
pose,  the  voice  of  acclamation  and  gratitude,  com 
mencing  on  the  Rock  of  Plymouth,  shall  be  trans 
mitted  through  millions  of  the  sons  of  the  Pilgrims, 
till  it  lose  itself  in  the  murmurs  of  the  Pacific  seas. 

We  would  leave  for  the  consideration  of  those 
who  shall  then  occupy  our  places,  some  proof  that 
we  hold  the  blessings  transmitted  from  our  fathers  in 


75 

just  estimation  ;  some  proof  of  our  attachment  to 
the  cause  of  good  government,  and  of  civil  and  reli 
gious  liberty;  some  proof  of  a  sincere  and  ardent 
desire  to  promote  every  thing  which  may  enlarge 
the  understandings  and  improve  the  hearts  of  men. 
And  when,  from  the  long  distance  of  an  hundred 
years,  they  shall  look  back  upon  us,  they  shall  know, 
at  least,  that  we  possessed  affections,  which  running 
backward,  and  warming  with  gratitude  for  what  our 
ancestors  have  done  for  our  happiness,  run  forward 
also  to  our  posterity,  and  meet  them  with  cordial  sal 
utation,  ere  yet  they  have  arrived  on  the  shore  of 
Being. 

Advance,  then,  ye  future  generations  !  We  would 
hail  you,  as  you  rise  in  your  long  succession,  to  fill 
the  places  which  we  now  fill,  and  to  taste  the  bles 
sings  of  existence,  where  we  are  passing,  and  soon 
shall  have  passed,  our  own  human  duration.  We 
bid  you  welcome  to  this  pleasant  land  of  the  Fa 
thers.  We  bid  you  welcome  to  the  healthful  skies, 
and  the  verdant  fields  of  New-England.  We  greet 
your  accession  to  the  great  inheritance  which  we 
have  enjoyed.  We  welcome  you  to  the  blessings  of 
good  government,  and  religious  liberty.  We  wel 
come  you  to  the  treasures  of  science,  and  the  de 
lights  of  learning.  We  welcome  you  to  the  tran- 
sceridant  sweets  of  domestic  life,  to  the  happiness 
of  kindred,  and  parents,  and  children.  We  welcome 
you  to  the  immeasurable  blessings  of  rational  exis 
tence,  the  immortal  hope  of  Christianity,  and  the 
light  of  everlasting  Truth  ! 


The  following  is  a  list  of  the  DISCOURSES  delivered  on  this  Anniversary. 
Those  marked  with  an  asterisk  have  not  been  printed. 


1769.  First  publicly  noticed  by  the  Old  Colony  Club. 

1770.  EDWARD  WINSLOW,  jun.  Esq.  of  Plymouth,  an  Oration.* 

1771.  (Lord's  Day)  the  next  day  (23d)  a  public  dinner. 

1772.  Rev.  CHANDLER  ROBBINS,  of  Plymouth,  on  Ps.  Ixxviii.  6.  7.* 

1773.  Rev.  CHARLES  TURNER,  Duxbury,  Zeck.  iv.  10. 

1774.  Rev.  GAD  HITCHCOCK,  Pembroke,  Gen.  i.  31. 

1775.  Rev.  SAMUEL  BALDWIN,  Hanover,  Heb.  xi.  8. 

1776.  Rev.  SYLVANUS  CONANT,  MiddltborougJi,  Exod.  i.  12. 

1777.  Rev.  SAMUEL  WEST,  Dartmouth,  Isai.  Ixvi.  5—9. 

1778.  Rev.  TIMOTHY  HILLIARD,  Barnstable* 

1779.  Rev.  WILLIAM  SHAW,  Marshjield.* 

1780.  Rev.  JONATHAN  MOORE,  Rochester,  Isai.  xli.  10.  11.* 

From  this  time  the  public  observance  of  the  day  was  suspended,  till 

1794.  Rev.  CHANDLER  ROBBINS,  D.D.  Plymouth,  Psal.  Ixxvii.  11. 
1795.— 1796.— 1797.     Private  celebration. 

1798.  Doct.  ZACHEUS  BARTLETT,  Plymouth,  an  Oration.* 

1799.  Tiie  day  was  so  near  that  appointed  for  the  ordination  of  the  Rev. 

Mr.  KENDALL,  that  it  was  not  celebrated  by  a  public  discourse. 

1800.  JOHN  DAVIS,  Esq.  Boston,  an  Oration.* 

1801.  Rev.  JOHN  ALLYN,  Duxbury,  Heb.  xii.  2. 

1802.  JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS,  Esq.  Boston,  an  Oration. 

1803.  Rev.  JOHN  T.  KIRKLAND,  D.D.  Boston,  Prov.  xvii.  6.* 

1804.  (Lord's  Day)  Rev.  JAMES  KENDALL,  of  Plymouth,  preached  from 

Heb.  xi.  13.* 

1805.  ALDEN  BRADFORD,  Esq.  IViscassd,  Exod.  xii.  14. 

1806.  Rev.  ABIEL  HOLMKS,  D.D.  Cambridge,  Romans,  ix.  5. 

1807.  Rev.  JAMES  FREEMAN,  Boston.* 

1808.  Rev.  THADDEUS  M.  HARRIS,  Dorchester,  Ps.  xliv.  1.2.  3. 

1809.  Rev.  ABIEL  ABBOTT,  Beverly,  Deut.  xxxii.  11.  12. 

1810.  Private  celebration. 

1811.  (Lord's  Day)  Rev.  JOHN  ELLIOT,  D.D.  Boston.* 
1812. — 1813. — 1814.     Private  celebration. 

1815.  Rev.  JAMES  FLINT,  Brid^ewater,  Ps.  xvi.  6. 

1816.  (Lord's  Day)  Rev.  EZRA  GOODWIN,  Sandwich,  Isai.  Ix.  22.* 

1817.  Rev.  HORACE  HOLLEY,  Boston.* 

1818.  WENDELL  DAVIS,  Esq.  an  Oration.* 

1819.  FRANCIS  C.  GRAY,  Esq.  Boston,  an  Oration.* 

1820.  Hon.  DANIEL  WEBSTER,  Boston,  an  Oration. 


MR.  WEBSTER'S 


ON 


THE  GREEK  REVOLUTION. 


From  the  Washington  Edition. 


BOSTON  : 
PUBLISHED  BY  CUMMINGS,  HILLIARD  &  CO. 

Unirersity  Prws-Hilliard  &  Metcalf, 
1824. 


MR.  WEBSTER'S  SPEECH 


ON  THE 


(Krceft  fteboluttoit 


ON  the  8th  of  December,  1823,  Mr.  Webster  presented,  in 
the  House  of  Representatives,  the  following  resolution  : 

"  Resolved,  That  provision  ought  to  be  made,  by  law,  for 
defraying  the  expense  incident  to  the  appointment  of  an 
Agent  or  Commissioner  to  Greece,  whenever  the  President 
shall  deem  it  expedient  to  make  such  appointment." 

The  House  having,  on  the  19th  of  January,  resolved  itself 
into  a  Committee  of  the  Whole,  and  this  resolution  being 
taken  into  consideration,  Mr.  Webster  spoke  to  the  following 
effect : 

I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Chairman,  that,  so  far  as  my  part  in  this 
discussion  is  concerned,  those  expectations  which  the  public 
excitement,  existing  on  the  subject,  and  certain  associations, 
easily  connected  with  it,  have  conspired  to  raise,  may  be  dis 
appointed.  An  occasion  which  calls  the  attention  to  a  spot, 
so  distinguished,  so  connected  with  interesting  recollections, 
as  Greece,  may  naturally  excite  something  of  warmth  and 
enthusiasm.  In  a  grave,  political  discussion,  however,  it  is 
necessary  that  that  feeling  should  be  chastised.  I  shall  en 
deavour  properly  to  repress  it,  although  it  is  impossible  that  it 
should  be  altogether  extinguished.  We  must,  indeed,  fly 
beyond  the  civilized  world,  we  must  pass  the  dominion  of 
law,  and  the  boundaries  of  knowledge  ;  we  must,  more  espe 
cially,  withdraw  ourselves  from  this  place,  and  the  scenes 


4 

which  here  surround  us,  if  we  would  separate  ourselves,  alto 
gether,  from  the  influence  of  all  those  memorials  of  herself 
which  ancient  Greece  has  transmitted  for  the  admiration,  and 
the  benefit,  of  mankind.  This  free  form  of  government,  this 
popular  assembly,  the  common  council,  held  for  the  common 
good,  where  have  we  contemplated  its  earliest  models  ?  This 
practice  of  free  debate,  and  public  discussion,  the  contest  of 
mind  with  mind,  and  that  popular  eloquence,  which,  if  it  were 
now  here,  on  a  subject  like  this,  would  move  the  stones  of  the 
Capitol,  whose  was  the  language  in  which  all  these  were  first 
exhibited  ?  Even  the  Edifice  in  which  we  assemble,  these 
proportioned  columns,  this  ornamented  architecture,  all  remind 
us  that  Greece  has  existed,  and  that  we,  like  the  rest  of  man 
kind,  are  greatly  her  debtors.  But  I  have  not  introduced  this 
motion  in  the  vain  hope  of  discharging  any  thing  of  this 
accumulated  debt  of  centuries.  I  have  not  acted  upon  the 
expectation,  that  we,  who  have  inherited  this  obligation  from 
our  ancestors,  should  now  attempt  to  pay  it,  to  those  who 
may  seem  to  have  inherited,  from  their  ancestors,  a  right  to 
receive  payment.  My  object  is  nearer  and  more  immedi 
ate,  I  wish  to  take  occasion  of  the  struggle  of  an  inter 
esting  and  gallant  people,  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and 
Christianity,  to  draw  the  attention  of  the  House  to  the  cir 
cumstances  which  have  accompanied  that  struggle,  and  to  the 
principles  which  appear  to  have  governed  the  conduct  of  the 
great  states  of  Europe,  in  regard  to  it ;  and  to  the  effects  and 
consequences  of  these  principles,  upon  the  independence  of 
nations,  and  especially  upon  the  institutions  of  free  govern 
ments.  What  I  have  to  say  of  Greece,  therefore,  concerns 
the  modern,  not  the  ancient ;  the  living,  and  not  the  dead. 
It  regards  her,  not  as  she  exists  in  history,  triumphant  over 
time,  and  tyranny,  and  ignorance ;  but  as  she  now  is,  con 
tending,  against  fearful  odds,  for  being,  and  for  the  common 
privilege  of  human  nature. 

As  it  is  never  difficult  to  recite  commonplace  remarks,  and 
trite  aphorisms  ;  so  it  may  be  easy,  I  am  aware,  on  this  occa 
sion,  to  remind  me  of  the  wisdom  which  dictates  to  men  a 


care  of  their  own  affairs,  and  admonishes  them,  instead  of 
searching  for  adventures  abroad,  to  leave  other  men's  con 
cerns  in  their  own  hands.  It  may  be  easy  to  call  this  reso 
lution  Quixotic,  the  emanation  of  a  crusading  or  propagandist 
spirit.  All  this,  and  more,  may  be  readily  said  ;  but  all  this, 
and  more,  will  not  be  allowed  to  fix  a  character  upon  this 
proceeding,  until  that  is  proved,  which  it  takes  for  granted. 
Let  it  first  be  shown,  that,  in  this  question,  there  is  nothing 
which  can  affect  the  interest,  the  character,  or  the  duty  of  this 
country.  Let  it  be  proved,  that  we  are  not  called  upon,  by 
either  of  these  considerations,  to  express  an  opinion  on  the 
subject  to  which  the  resolution  relates.  Let  this  be  proved, 
and  then  it  will,  indeed,  be  made  out,  that  neither  ought  this 
resolution  to  pass,  nor  ought  the  subject  of  it  to  have  been 
mentioned  in  the  communication  of  the  President  to  us.  But, 
in  my  opinion,  this  cannot  be  shown.  In  my  judgment,  the 
subject  is  interesting  to  the  people  and  the  government  of  this 
country,  and  we  are  called  upon,  by  considerations  of  great 
weight  and  moment,  to  express  our  opinions  upon  it.  These 
considerations,  I  think,  spring  from  a  sense  of  our  own  duty, 
our  character,  and  our  own  interest.  I  wish  to  treat  the  sub 
ject  on  such  grounds,  exclusively,  as  are  truly  American ;  but 
then,  in  considering  it  as  an  American  question,  I  cannot  for 
get  the  age  in  which  we  live,  the  prevailing  spirit  of  the  age, 
the  interesting  questions  which  agitate  it,  and  our  own 
peculiar  relation,  in  regard  to  these  interesting  questions.  Let 
this  be,  then,  and  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  hope  it  will  be, 
purely  an  American  discussion  ;  but  let  it  embrace,  neverthe 
less,  every  thing  that  fairly  concerns  America  ;  let  it  compre 
hend,  not  merely  her  present  advantage,  but  her  permanent 
interest,  her  elevated  character,  as  one  of  the  free  states  of  the 
world,  and  her  duty  towards  those  great  principles,  which 
have  hitherto  maintained  the  relative  independence  of  nations, 
and  which  have,  more  especially,  made  her  what  she  is. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  session,  the  President,  in  the 
discharge  of  the  high  duties  of  his  office,  called  our  attention 
to  the  subject,  to  which  this  resolution  refers.  "A  strong  hope," 


6 

says  that  communication,  "  lias  been  long  entertained,  found 
ed  on  the  heroic  struggle  of  the  Greeks,  that  they  would  suc 
ceed  in  their  contest,  and  resume  their  equal  station  among 
the  nations  of  the  earth.  It  is  believed  that  the  whole  civil 
ized  world  takes  a  deep  interest  in  their  welfare.  Although 
no  power  has  declared  in  their  favour,  yet  none,  according  to 
our  information,  has  taken  part  against  them.  Their  cause 
and  their  name  have  protected  them  from  dangers,  which 
might,  ere  this,  have  overwhelmed  any  other  people.  The 
ordinary  calculations  of  interest,  and  of  acquisition  with  a  view 
to  aggrandizement,  which  mingle  so  much  in  the  transactions 
of  nations,  seem  to  have  had  no  effect  in  regard  to  them. 
From  the  facts  which  have  come  to  our  knowledge,  there  is 
good  cause  to  believe  that  their  enemy  has  lost,  for  ever,  all 
dominion  over  them  :  that  Greece  will  become  again  an  inde 
pendent  nation." 

It  has  appeared  to  me,  that  the  House  should  adopt  some 
resolution,  reciprocating  these  sentiments,  so  far  as  it  should 
approve  them.  More  than  twenty  years  have  elapsed,  since 
Congress  first  ceased  to  receive  such  a  communication  from 
the  President,  as  could  properly  be  made  the  subject  of  a 
general  answer.  I  do  not  mean  to  find  fault  with  this  re- 
linquishment  of  a  former,  and  an  ancient  practice.  It  may  have 
been  attended  with  inconveniences  which  justified  its  abo 
lition.  But,  certainly,  there  was  one  advantage  belonging  to 
it ;  and  that  is,  that  it  furnished  a  fit  opportunity  for  the  ex 
pression  of  the  opinion  of  the  Houses  of  Congress,  upon  those 
topics  in  the  Executive  communication,  which  were  not  ex 
pected  to  be  made  the  immediate  subjects  of  direct  legisla 
tion.  Since,  therefore,  the  President's  message  does  not 
now  receive  a  general  answer,  it  has  seemed  to  me  to  be 
proper,  that  in  some  mode,  agreeable  to  our  own  usual  form 
of  proceeding,  we  should  express  our  sentiments  upon  the 
important  and  interesting  topics  on  which  it  treats. 

If  the  sentiments  of  the  message  in  respect  to  Greece  be 
proper,  it  is  equally  proper  that  this  House  should  reciprocate 
those  sentiments.  The  present  resolution  is  designed  to  have 


that  extent,  and  no  more.  If  it  pass,  it  will  leave  any  future 
proceeding  where  it  now  is,  in  the  discretion  of  the  Executive 
Government.  It  is  but  an  expression,  under  those  forms  in 
which  the  House  is  accustomed  to  act,  of  the  satisfaction  of 
the  House  with  the  general  sentiments  expressed  in  regard 
to  this  subject  in  the  message,  and  of  its  readiness  to  defray 
the  expense  incident  to  any  inquiry  for  the  purpose  of  further 
information,  or  any  other  agency  which  the  President,  in  his 
discretion,  shall  see  fit,  in  whatever  manner,  and  at  whatever 
time,  to  institute.  The  whole  matter  is  still  left  in  his  judg 
ment,  and  this  resolution  can  in  no  way  restrain  its  unlimited 
exercise. 

I  might  well,  Mr,  Chairman,  avoid  the  responsibility  of  this 
measure,  if  it  had,  in  my  judgment,  any  tendency  to  change 
the  policy  of  the  country.  With  the  general  course  of  that 
policy,  I  am  quite  satisfied.  The  nation  is  prosperous,  peace 
ful,  and  happy ;  and  I  should  very  reluctantly  put  its  peace, 
prosperity,  or  happiness,  at  risk.  It  appears  to  me,  however, 
that  this  resolution  is  strictly  conformable  to  our  general  poli 
cy,  and  not  only  consistent  with  our  interests,  but  even  de 
manded  by  a  large  and  liberal  view  of  those  interests. 

It  is  certainly  true,  that  the  just  policy  of  this  country  is 
in  the  first  place,  a  peaceful  policy.  No  nation  ever  had  less 
to  expect  from  forcible  aggrandizement.  The  mighty  agents 
which  are  working  out  our  greatness,  are  time,  industry,  and 
the  arts.  Our  augmentation  is  by  growth,  not  by  acquisition ; 
by  internal  development,  not  by  external  accession.  No 
schemes  can  be  suggested  to  us,  so  magnificent  as  the  pros 
pects  which  a  sober  contemplation  of  our  own  condition, 
unaided  by  projects,  uninfluenced  by  ambition,  fairly  spreads 
before  us.  A  country  of  such  vast  extent,  with  such  varieties 
of  soil  and  climate  ;  with  so  much  public  spirit  and  private 
enterprise  ;  with  a  population  increasing  so  much  beyond 
former  examples,  with  capacities  of  improvement  not  only 
unapplied  or  unexhausted,  but  even,  in  a  great  measure,  as 
yet,  unexplored  ;  so  free  in  its  institutions,  so  mild  in  its 
laws,  so  secure  in  the  title  it  confers  on  every  man  to  his  own 


8 

acquisitions ;  needs  nothing  but  time  and  peace  to  carry  it 
forward  to  almost  any  point  of  advancement. 

In  the  next  place,  I  take  it  for  granted,  that  the  policy  of 
this  country,  springing  from  the  nature  of  our  government,  and 
the  spirit  of  all  our  institutions,  is,  so  far  as  it  respects  the 
interesting  questions  which  agitate  the  present  age,  on  the  side 
of  liberal  and  enlightened  sentiments.  The  age  is  extraordi 
nary  ;  the  spirit  that  actuates  it,  is  peculiar  and  marked ;  and 
our  own  relation  to  the  times  we  live  in,  and  to  the  questions 
which  interest  them,  is  equally  marked  and  peculiar.  We 
are  placed,  by  our  good  fortune,  and  the  wisdom  and  valour 
of  our  ancestors,  in  a  condition  in  which  we  can  act  no  obscure 
part.  Be  it  for  honour,  or  be  it  for  dishonour,  whatever  we 
do,  is  not  likely  to  escape  the  observation  of  the  world.  As 
one  of  the  free  states  among  the  nations,  as  a  great  and  rapid 
ly  rising  Republic,  it  would  be  impossible  for  us,  if  we  were 
so  disposed,  to  prevent  our  principles,  our  sentiments,  and 
our  example,  from  producing  some  effect  upon  the  opinions 
and  hopes  of  society  throughout  the  civilized  world.  It  rests 
probably  with  ourselves  to  determine,  whether  the  influence 
of  these  shall  be  salutary  or  pernicious. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  great  political  question  of  this 
age  is,  that  between  absolute  and  regulated  governments. 
The  substance  of  the  controversy  is,  whether  society  shall 
have  any  part  in  its  own  government.  Whether  the  form 
of  government  shall  be  that  of  limited  monarchy,  with  more  or 
less  mixture  of  hereditary  power,  or  wholly  elective,  or  rep 
resentative,  may  perhaps  be  considered  as  subordinate.  The 
main  controversy  is  between  that  absolute  rule,  which,  while 
it  promises  to  govern  well,  means  nevertheless  to  govern 
without  control,  and  that  regulated  or  constitutional  system, 
which  restrains  sovereign  discretion,  and  asserts  that  society 
may  claim,  as  matter  of  right,  some  effective  power  in  the 
establishment  of  the  laws  which  are  to  regulate  it.  The  spirit  of 
the  times  sets  with  a  most  powerful  current,  in  favour  of  these 
kst  mentioned  opinions.  It  is  opposed,  however,  whenever 
and  wherever  it  shows  itself,  by  certain  of  the  great  potentates 


of  Europe  ;  and  it  is  opposed  on  grounds  as  applicable  in  one 
civilized  nation  as  in  another,  and  which  would  justify  such 
opposition  in  relation  to  the  United  States,  as  well  as  in  rela 
tion  to  any  other  state,  or  nation,  if  time  and  circumstance 
should  render  such  opposition  expedient. 

What  part  it  becomes  this  country  to  take  on  a  question  of 
this  sort,  so  far  as  it  is  called  upon  to  take  any  part,  cannot  be 
doubtful.  Our  side  of  this  question  is  settled  for  us,  even  with 
out  our  own  volition.  Our  history,  our  situation,  our  charac 
ter,  necessarily  decide  our  position  and  our  course,  before  we 
have  even  time  to  ask  whether  we  have  an  option.  Our 
place  is  on  the  side  of  free  institutions.  From  the  earliest 
settlement  of  these  States,  their  inhabitants  were  accustomed, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  powers  of 
self-government;  and  for  the  last  half  century,  they  have  sus 
tained  systems  of  government  entirely  representative,  yielding 
to  themselves  the  greatest  possible  prosperity,  and  not  leaving 
them  without  distinction  and  respect  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth.  This  system  we  are  not  likely  to  abandon  ;  and  while 
we  shall  no  farther  recommend  its  adoption  to  other  nations, 
in  whole  or  in  part,  than  it  may  recommend  itself  by  its  visi 
ble  influence  on  our  growth  and  prosperity,  we  are,  neverthe 
less,  interested,  to  resist  the  establishment  of  doctrines  which 
deny  the  legality  of  its  foundations.  We  stand  as  an  equal 
among  nations,  claiming  the  full  benefit  of  the  established  in 
ternational  law  ;  and  it  is  our  duty  to  oppose,  from  the  earliest 
to  the  latest  moment,  any  innovations  upon  that  code,  which 
shall  bring  into  doubt  or  question  our  own  equal  and  inde 
pendent  rights. 

I  will  now,  Mr.  Chairman,  advert  to  those  pretensions,  put 
forth  by  the  Allied  Sovereigns  of  continental  Europe,  which 
seem  to  me  calculated,  if  unresisted,  to  bring  into  disrepute 
the  principles  of  our  government,  and  indeed  to  be  wholly  in 
compatible  with  any  degree  of  national  independence.  I  do 
not  introduce  these  considerations  for  the  sake  of  topics,  I 
am  not  about  to  declaim  against  crowned  heads,  nor  to  quar 
rel  with  any  country  for  preferring  a  form  of  government  dif- 
2 


10 

ferent  from  our  own.  The  choice  that  we  exercise  for  our 
selves,  I  am  quite  willing  to  leave  also  to  others.  But  it  ap 
pears  to  me  that  the  pretensions  of  which  I  have  spoken,  are 
wholly  inconsistent  with  the  independence  of  nations  gener 
ally,  without  regard  to  the  question,  whether  their  governments 
be  absolute,  monarchical  and  limited,  or  purely  popular  and 
representative.  I  have  a  most  deep  and  thorough  conviction, 
that  a  new  era  has  arisen  in  the  world,  that  new  and  dangerous 
combinations  are  taking  place,  promulgating  doctrines,  and 
fraught  with  consequences,  wholly  subversive,  in  their  tenden 
cy,  of  the  public  law  of  nations,  and  of  the  general  liberties 
of  mankind.  Whether  this  be  so,  or  not,  is  the  question 
which  1  now  propose  to  examine,  upon  such  grounds  of  in 
formation,  as  the  common  and  public  means  of  knowledge 
disclose. 

Every  body  knows  that,  since  the  final  restoration  of  the 
Bourbons  to  the  throne  of  France,  the  continental  powers 
have  entered  into  sundry  alliances,  which  have  been  made 
public,  and  have  held  several  meetings  or  Congresses,  at 
which  the  principles  of  their  political  conduct  have  been  de 
clared.  These  things  must  necessarily  have  an  effect  upon 
the  international  law  of  the  states  of  the  world.  If  that  effect 
be  good,  and  according  to  the  principles  of  that  law,  they  de 
serve  to  be  applauded.  If,  on  the  contrary,  their  effect  and 
tendency  be  most  dangerous,  their  principles  wholly  inadmis 
sible,  their  pretensions  such  as  would  abolish  every  degree  of 
national  independence,  then  they  are  to  be  resisted. 

I  begin,  Mr.  Chairman,  by  drawing  your  attention  to  the 
treaty,  concluded  at  Paris  in  September,  1815,  between  Rus 
sia,  Prussia,  and  Austria,  commonly  called  the  Holy  Alliance. 
This  singular  alliance  appears  to  have  originated  with  the 
Emperor  of  Russia  ;  for  we  are  informed  that  a  draft  of  it 
was  exhibited  by  him,  personally,  to  a  plenipotentiary  of  one 
of  the  great  powers  of  Europe,  before  it  was  presented  to  the 
other  sovereigns  who  ultimately  signed  it.*  This  instrument 

*  Vide  Lord  Castlereagh's  Speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  February  3, 
1816.  Debates  in  Parliament,  vol.  36,  page  355:  where  also  the  Treaty 
may  be  found  at  length. 


11 

professes  nothing,  certainly,  which  is  not  extremely  com 
mendable  and  praiseworthy.  It  promises  only  that  the  con 
tracting  parties,  both  in  relation  to  other  states,  and  in  regard 
to  their  own  subjects,  will  observe  the  rules  of  justice  and 
Christianity.  In  confirmation  of  these  promises,  it  makes  the 
most  selemn  and  devout  religious  invocations.  Now,  al 
though  such  an  alliance  is  a  novelty  in  European  history,  the 
world  seems  to  have  received  this  treaty,  upon  its  first  pro 
mulgation,  with  general  charity.  It  was  commonly  under 
stood  as  little  or  nothing  more  than  an  expression  of  thanks 
for  the  successful  termination  of  the  momentous  contest,  in 
which  those  sovereigns  had  been  engaged.  It  still  seems 
somewhat  unaccountable,  however,  that  these  good  resolutions 
should  require  to  be  confirmed  by  treaty.  Who  doubted 
that  these  august  sovereigns  would  treat  each  other  with  jus 
tice,  and  rule  their  own  subjects  in  mercy  ?  And  what  ne 
cessity  was  there,  for  a  solemn  stipulation  by  treaty,  to  ensure 
the  performance  of  that,  which  is  no  more  than  the  ordinary 
duty  of  every  government  ?  It  would  hardly  be  admitted  by 
these  sovereigns,  that,  by  this  compact,  they  suppose  themselves 
bound  to  introduce  an  entire  change,  or  any  change,  in  the  course 
of  their  own  conduct.  Nothing  substantially  new,  certainly, 
can  be  supposed  to  have  been  intended.  What  principle,  or 
what  practice,  therefore,  called  for  this  solemn  declaration  of  the 
intention  of  the  parties  to  observe  the  rules  of  religion  and 
justice  ? 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  a  writer  of  reputation  upon 
the  Public  Law,  described,  many  years  ago,  not  inaccurately, 
the  character  of  this  alliance  :  I  allude  to  Puffendorff.  "  It 
seems  useless,"  says  he,  "  to  frame  any  pacts  or  leagues, 
barely  for  the  defence  and  support  of  universal  peace  ;  for,  by 
such  a  league  nothing  is  superadded  to  the  obligation  of  natu 
ral  law,  and  no  agreement  is  made  for  the  performance  of  any 
thing,  which  the  parties  were  not  previously  bound  to  per 
form  ;  nor  is  the  original  obligation  rendered  firmer  or  strong 
er  by  such  an  addition.  Men  of  any  tolerable  culture  and 
civilization,  might  well  be  ashamed  of  entering  into  any  such 


12 

compact,  the  conditions  of  which  imply  only  that  the  parties 
concerned  shall  not  offend  in  any  clear  point  of  duty.  Be 
sides,  we  should  be  guilty  of  great  irreverence  towards  God, 
should  we  suppose  that  his  injunctions  had  not  already  laid  a 
sufficient  obligation  upon  us  to  act  justly,  unless  we  ourselves 
voluntarily  consented  to  the  same  engagement:  as  if  our  obli 
gation  to  obey  his  will,  depended  upon  our  own  pleasure. 

"  If  one  engage  to  serve  another,  he  does  not  set  it  down 
expressly  and  particularly  among  the  terms  and  conditions  of 
the  bargain,  that  he  will  not  betray  nor  murder  him.  uor  pil 
lage  nor  burn  his  house.  For  the  same  reason,  that  would 
be  a  dishonourable  engagement,  in  which  men  should  bind 
themselves  to  act  properly  and  decently,  and  not  break  the 
peace."* 

Such  were  the  sentiments  of  that  eminent  writer.  How 
nearly  he  had  anticipated  the  case  of  the  Holy  Alliance,  will 
appear  from  comparing  his  observations  with  the  preamble  to 
that  alliance,  which  is  as  follows  : 

"  In  the  name  of  the  most  Holy  and  Indivisible  Trinity, 
their  Majesties  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  the  King  of  Prussia, 
and  the  Emperor  of  Russia," — "  solemnly  declare,  that  the 
present  act  has  no  other  object  than  to  publish,  in  the  face  of 
the  whole  world,  their  fixed  resolution,  both  in  the  adminis 
tration  of  their  respective  states,  and  in  their  political  relations 
with  every  other  government,  to  take  for  their  sole  guide  the 
precepts  of  that  holy  religion,  namely,  the  precepts  of  justice, 
Christian  charity,  and  peace,  which,  far  from  being  applicable 
only  to  private  concerns,  must  have  an  immediate  influence  on 
the  councils  of  princes,  and  guide  all  their  steps,  as  being  the 
only  means  of  consolidating  human  institutions,  and  remedy 
ing  their  imperfections." 

This  measure,  however,  appears  principally  important,  as 
it  was  the  first  of  a  series,  and  was  followed  afterwards  by 
others  of  a  more  direct  and  practical  nature.  These  meas 
ures,  taken  together,  profess  to  establish  two  principles,  which 
the  Allied  Powers  would  enforce  as  a  part  of  the  law  of  the 

*  Book  ii,  cap.  2. 


13 

civilized  world,  and  the  enforcement  of  which  is  menaced  by 
a  million  and  a  half  of  bayonets. 

The  first  of  these  principles  is,  that  all  popular,  or  consti 
tutional  rights,  are  holden  no  otherwise  than  as  grants  from 
the  crown.  Society,  upon  this  principle,  has  no  rights  of  its 
own  ;  it  takes  good  government,  when  it  gets  it,  as  a  boon 
and  a  concession,  but  can  demand  nothing.  It  is  to  live  in 
that  favour  which  emanates  from  royal  authority,  and  if  it 
have  the  misfortune  to  lose  that  favour,  there  is  nothing  to 
protect  it  against  any  degree  of  injustice  and  oppression.  It 
can  rightfully  make  no  endeavour  for  a  change,  by  itself;  its 
whole  privilege  is  to  receive  the  favours  that  may  be  dispens 
ed  by  the  sovereign  power,  and  all  its  duty  is  described  in  the 
single  word,  submission.  This  is  the  plain  result  of  the 
principal  continental  state  papers ;  indeed  it  is  nearly  the 
identical  text  of  some  of  them. 

The  Laybach  circular  of  May,  1821,  alleges,  "that  useful 
and  necessary  changes  in  legislation  and  administration, 
ought  only  to  emanate  from  the  free  will  and  intelligent  con 
viction  of  those  whom  God  has  rendered  responsible  for  pow 
er;  all  that  deviates  from  this  line  necessarily  leads  to  dis 
order,  commotions,  and  evils,  far  more  insufferable  than  those 
which  they  pretend  to  remedy."  *  Now,  Sir,  this  principle 
would  carry  Europe  back  again,  at  once,  into  the  middle  of 
the  dark  ages.  It  is  the  old  doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of 
kings,  advanced  now,  by  new  advocates,  and  sustained  by  a 
formidable  mass  of  power.  That  the  p-eople  hold  their  fun 
damental  privileges,  as  matter  of  concession  or  indulgence, 
from  the  sovereign  power,  is  a  sentiment  not  easy  to  diffuse 
in  this  age,  any  farther  than  it  is  enforced  by  the  direct  ope 
ration  of  military  means.  It  is  true,  certainly,  that  some  six 
centuries  ago,  the  early  founders  of  English  liberty  called  the 
instrument  which  secured  their  rights  a  Charter;  it  was, 
indeed,  a  concession ;  they  had  obtained  it,  sword  in  hand, 
from  the  king;  and,  in  many  other  cases,  whatever  was  ob- 

*  Annual  Register,  for  1821 


14 

tained,  favourable  to  human  rights,  from  the  tyranny  and  des 
potism  of  the  feudal  sovereigns,  was  called  by  the  names  of 
privileges  and  liberties,  as  being  matter  of  special  favour  And, 
though  we  retain  this  language  at  the  present  time,  the  prin* 
ciple  itself  belongs  to  ages  that  have  long  passed  by  us.  The 
civilized  world  has  done  with  the  enormous  faith  of  many 
made  for  one.  Society  asserts  its  own  rights,  and  alleges 
them  to  be  original,  sacred,  and  unalienable.  It  is  not  satis 
fied  with  having  kind  masters;  it  demands  a  participation  in 
its  own  government:  and,  in  states  much  advanced  in  civiliza 
tion,  it  urges  this  demand  with  a  constancy  and  an  energy, 
that  cannot  well,  nor  long,  be  resisted.  There  are,  happily, 
enough  of  regulated  governments  in  the  world,  and  those 
among  the  most  distinguished,  to  operate  as  constant  exam 
ples,  and  to  keep  alive  an  unceasing  panting  in  the  bosoms  of 
men,  for  the  enjoyment  of  similar  free  institutions. 

When  the  English  revolution  of  1688  took  place,  the  Eng 
lish  people  did  not  content  themselves  with  the  example  of 
Runnymede  ;  they  did  not  build  their  hopes  upon  royal  char 
ters  ;  they  did  not,  like  the  Lay  bach  circular,  suppose  that  all 
useful  changes  in  constitutions  and  laws  must  proceed  from 
those  only  whom  God  has  rendered  responsible  for  power. 
They  were  somewhat  better  instructed  in  the  principles  of  civil 
liberty,  or  at  least  they  were  better  lovers  of  those  principles, 
than  the  sovereigns  of  Laybach.  Instead  of  petitioning  for 
charters,  they  declared  their  rights,  and,  while  they  offered  to 
the  family  of  Orange  the  crown  with  one  hand,  they  held  in 
the  other  an  enumeration  of  those  privileges  which  they  did 
not  profess  to  hold  as  favours,  but  which  they  demanded  and 
insisted  upon,  as  their  undoubted  rights. 

I  need  not  stop  to  observe,  Mr.  Chairman,  how  totally  hos 
tile  are  these  doctrines  of  Laybach,  to  the  fundamental  prin 
ciples  of  our  government.  They  are  in  direct  contradiction  : 
the  principles  of  good  and  evil  are  hardly  more  opposite.  If 
these  principles  of  the  sovereigns  be  true,  we  are  but  in  a 
state  of  rebellion,  or  of  anarchy,  and  are  only  tolerated  among 
civilized  nations,  because  it  has  not  yet  been  convenient  to 
conform  us  to  the  true  standard. 


15 

But  the  second,  and,  if  possible,  the  still  more  objection 
able  principle,  avowed  in  these  papers,  is  the  right  of  forcible 
interference  in  the  affairs  of  other  states.  A  right  to  control 
nations  in  their  desire  to  change  their  own  government,  wher 
ever  it  may  be  conjectured,  or  pretended,  that  such  change 
might  furnish  an  example  to  the  subjects  of  other  states,  is 
plainly  and  distinctly  asserted.  The  same  Congress  that 
made  the  declaration  at  Laybach,  had  declared,  before  its 
removal  from  Troppau,  "  that  the  powers  have  an  undoubted 
right  to  take  a  hostile  attitude  in  regard  to  those  states  in  which 
the  overthrow  of  the  government  may  operate  as  an  example." 

There  cannot,  as  I  think,  be  conceived  a  more  flagrant  vio 
lation  of  public  law,  or  national  independence,  than  is  contain 
ed  in  this  declaration. 

No  matter  what  be  the  character  of  the  government  resisted ; 
no  matter  with  what  weight  the  foot  of  the  oppressor  bears  on 
the  neck  of  the  oppressed  ;  if  he  struggle,  or  if  he  complain, 
he  sets  a  dangerous  example  of  resistance, — and  from  that 
moment  he  becomes  an  object  of  hostility  to  the  most  power 
ful  potentates  of  the  earth.  I  want  words  to  express  my 
abhorrence  of  this  abominable  principle.  I  trust  every  enlight 
ened  man  throughout  the  world  will  oppose  it,  and  that  espe 
cially,  those  who,  like  ourselves,  are  fortunately  out  of  the 
reach  of  the  bayonets  that  enforce  it,  will  proclaim  their 
detestation  of  it,  in  a  tone  both  loud  and  decisive.  The 
avowed  object  of  such  declarations  is  to  preserve  the  peace  of 
the  world.  But  by  what  means  is  it  proposed  to  preserve 
this  peace  ?  Simply,  by  bringing  the  power  of  all  governments 
to  bear  against  all  subjects.  Here  is  to  be  established  a  sort 
of  double,  or  treble,  or  quadruple,  or,  for  aught  1  know,  a  quin 
tuple  allegiance.  An  offence  against  one  king  is  to  be  an 
offence  against  all  kings,  and  the  power  of  all  is  to  be  put 
forth  for  the  punishment  of  the  offender.  A  right  to  interfere 
in  extreme  cases,  in  the  case  of  contiguous  states,  and  where 
imminent  danger  is  threatened  to  one  by  what  is  transpiring 
in  another,  is  not  without  precedent  in  modern  times,  upon 
what  has  been  called  the  law  of  vicinage  ;  and  when  confin- 


16 

ed  to  extreme  cases,  and  limited  to  a  certain  extent,  it  may 
perhaps  be  defended  upon  principles  of  necessity  and  self- 
defence.  But  to  maintain  that  sovereigns  may  go  to  war 
upon  the  subjects  of  another  state  to  repress  an  example,  is 
monstrous  indeed.  What  is  to  be  the  limit  to  such  a  princi 
ple,  or  to  the  practice  growing  out  of  it  ?  What,  in  any  case, 
but  sovereign  pleasure  is  to  decide  whether  the  example  be 
good  or  bad  ?  And  what,  under  the  operation  of  such  a  rule, 
may  be  thought  of  OUR  example  ?  Why  are  we  not  as  fail- 
objects  for  the  operation  of  the  new  principle,  as  any  of  those 
who  may  attempt  to  reform  the  condition  of  their  government, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  ? 

The  ultimate  effect  of  this  alliance  of  sovereigns,  for  ob 
jects  personal  to  themselves,  or  respecting  only  the  perma 
nence  of  their  own  power,  must  be  the  destruction  of  all  just 
feeling,  and  all  natural  sympathy,  between  those  who  exercise 
the  power  of  government  and  those  who  are  subject  to  it. 
The  old  channels  of  mutual  regard  and  confidence  are  to  be 
dried  up,  or  cut  off.  Obedience  can  now  be  expected  no 
longer  than  it  is  enforced.  Instead  of  relying  on  the  affections 
of  the  governed,  sovereigns  are  to  rely  on  the  affections  and 
friendship  of  other  sovereigns.  There  are,  in  short,  no  lon 
ger  to  be  nations.  Princes  and  people  no  longer  are  to  unite 
for  interests  common  to  them  both.  There  is  to  be  an  end  of 
all  patriotism,  as  a  distinct  national  feeling.  Society  is  to  be 
divided  horizontally ;  all  sovereigns  above,  and  all  subjects 
below  ;  the  former  coalescing  for  their  own  security,  and  for 
the  more  certain  subjection  of  the  undistinguished  multitude 
beneath.  This,  Sir,  is  no  picture,  drawn  by  imagination.  I 
have  hardly  used  language  stronger  than  that  in  which  the 
authors  of  this  new  system  have  commented  on  their  own 
work.  Mr.  Chateaubriand,  in  his  speech  in  the  French 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  in  February  last,  declared,  that  he  had 
a  conference  with  the  Emperor  of  Russia  at  Verona,  in  which 
that  august  sovereign  uttered  sentiments  which  appeared  to 
him  so  precious,  that  he  immediately  hastened  home,  and 
wrote  them  down  while  yet  fresh  in  his  recollection.  "  The 


17  , 

Emperor  declared,"  said  he,  "  that  there  can  no  longer  be  such 
a  thing  as  an  English,  French,  Rtissian,  Prussian,  or  Aus 
trian  policy  :  there  is  henceforth  but  one  policy,  which,  for  the 
safety  of  all,  should  be  adopted  both  by  people  and  kings.  It 
was  for  me  first  to  show  myself  convinced  of  the  principles 
upon  which  1  founded  the  alliance  ;  an  occasion  offered  itself; 
the  rising  in  Greece.  Nothing  certainly  could  occur  more  for 
my  interests,  for  the  interests  of  my  people  ;  nothing  more  ac 
ceptable  to  my  country,  than  a  religious  war  in  Turkey :  but 
I  have  thought  1  perceived  in  the  troubles  of  the  Morea, 
the  sign  of  revolution,  and  I  have  held  back.  Providence  has 
not  put  under  my  command  800,000  soldiers  to  satisfy  my  am 
bition,  but  to  protect  ^religion,  morality,  and  justice,  and 
to  secure  the  prevalence  of  those  principles  of  order  on  which 
human  society  rests.  It  may  well  be  permitted  that  kings  may 
have  public  alliances  to  dejend  themselves  against  secret  ene 
mies." 

These,  Sir,  are  the  words  which  the  French  minister 
thought  so  important  as  that  they  deserved  to  be  recorded  ; 
and  I  too,  Sir,  am  of  the  same  opinion.  But,  if  it  be  true 
that  there  is  hereafter  to  be  neither  a  Russian  policy,  nor 
a  Prussian  policy,  nor  an  Austrian  policy,  nor  a  French 
policy,  nor  even,  which  yet  I  will  not  believe,  an  English 
policy  ;  there  will  be,  I  trust  in  God,  an  American  policy.  If 
the  authority  of  all  these  governments  be  hereafter  to  be  mix 
ed  and  blended,  and  to  flow  in  one  augmented  current  of 
prerogative,  over  the  face  of  Europe,  sweeping  away  all  re 
sistance  in  its  course,  it  will  yet  remain  for  us  to  secure  our 
own  happiness,  by  the  preservation  of  our  own  principles  ; 
which  1  hope  we  shall  have  the  manliness  to  express  on  all 
proper  occasions,  and  the  spirit  to  defend  in  every  extremity. 
The  end  and  scope  of  this  amalgamated  policy  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  this  : — to  interfere,  by  force,  for  any 
government,  against  any  people  who  may  resist  it.  Be  the 
state  of  the  people  what  it  may,  they  shall  not  rise ;  be  the 
government  what  it  will,  it  shall  not  be  opposed.  The  prac 
tical  commentary  has  corresponded  with  the  plain  language  of 
3 


18 

the  text.  Look  at  Spain,  and  at  Greece.  If  men  may  not 
resist  the  Spanish  inquisition,  and  the  Turkish  scimitar,  what 
is  there  to  which  humanity  must  not  submit  ?  Stronger  cases 
can  never  arise.  Is  it  not  proper  for  us,  at  all  times — is  it  not 
our  duty,  at  this  time,  to  come  forth,  and  deny,  and  condemn, 
these  monstrous  principles.  Where,  but  here,  and  in  one 
other  place,  are  they  likely  to  be  resisted  ?  They  are  ad 
vanced  with  equal  coolness  and  boldness  ;  and  they  are  sup 
ported  by  immense  power.  The  timid  will  shrink  and  give 
way — and  many  of  the  brave  may  be  compelled  to  yield  to 
force.  Humali  liberty  may  yet,  perhaps,  be  obliged  to  repose 
its  principal  hopes  on  the  intelligence  and  vigour  of  the  Saxon 
race.  As  far  as  depends  on  us,  at  least,  I  trust  those  hopes 
will  not  be  disappointed  ;  and  that,  to  the  extent  which  may 
consist  with  our  own  settled,  pacific  policy,  our  opinions  and 
sentiments  may  be  brought  to  act,  on  the  right  side,  and  to 
the  right  end,  on  an  occasion  which  is,  in  truth,  nothing  less 
than  a  momentous  question  between  an  intelligent  age,  full  of 
knowledge,  thirsting  for  improvement,  and  quickened  by  a 
thousand  impulses,  and  the  most  arbitrary  pretensions,  sus 
tained  by  unprecedented  power. 

This  asserted  right  of  forcible  intervention,  in  the  affairs  of 
other  nations,  is  in  open  violation  of  the  public  law  of  the 
world.  Who  has  authorized  these  learned  doctors  of  Trop- 
pau,  to  establish  new  articles  in  this  code  ?  Whence  are  their 
diplomas  ?  Is  the  whole  world  expected  to  acquiesce  in  prin 
ciples,  which  entirely  subvert  the  independence  of  nations  ? 
On  the  basis  of  this  independence  has  been  reared  the  beau 
tiful  fabric  of  international  law.  On  the  principle  of  this  in 
dependence,  Europe  has  seen  a  family  of  nations,  flourishing 
within  its  limits,  the  small  among  the  large,  protected  not  al 
ways  by  power,  but  by  a  principle  above  power,  by  a  sense 
of  propriety  and  justice.  On  this  principle  the  great  com 
monwealth  of  civilized  states  has  been  hitherto  upheld.  There 
have  been  occasional  departures,  or  violations,  and  always 
disastrous,  as  in  the  case  of  Poland  ;  but,  in  general,  the  har 
mony  of  the  system  has  been  wonderfully  preserved.  In  the 


19 

production  and  preservation  of  this  sense  of  justice,  this  pre 
dominating  principle,  the  Christian  religion  has  acted  a  main 
part.  Christianity  and  civilization  have  laboured  together ;  it 
seems,  indeed,  to  be  a  law  of  our  human  condition,  that  they 
can  live  and  flourish  only  together.  From  their  blended  in 
fluence  has  arisen  that  delightful  spectacle  of  the  prevalence 
of  reason  and  principle,  over  power  and  interest,  so  well  des 
cribed  by  one  who  was  an  honour  to  the  age — 

"And  sovereign  Law,  the  world's  collected  will. 

O'er  thrones  and  globes  elate, 
Sits  Empress — crowning  good,  repressing  ill : 

Smit  by  her  sacred  frown, 
The  fiend,  Discretion,  like  a  vapour,  sinks, 

And  e'en  the  all-dazzling  crown 
Hides  his  faint  rays,  and  at  her  bidding  shrinks.'' 

But  this  vision  is  past.  While  the  teachers  of  Laybach  give 
the  rule,  there  will  be  no  law  but  the  law  of  the  strongest. 

It  may  now  be  required  of  me  to  show  what  interest  we 
have,  in  resisting  this  new  system.  What  is  it  to  us,  it  may 
be  asked,  upon  what  principles,  or  what  pretences,  the  Euro 
pean  governments  assert  a  right  of  interfering  in  the  affairs  of 
their  neighbours  ?  The  thunder,  it  may  be  said,  rolls  at  a 
distance.  The  wide  Atlantic  is  between  us  and  danger  ;  and, 
however  others  may  suffer,  we  shall  remain  safe. 

I  think  it  a  sufficient  answer  to  this,  to  say,  that  we  are  one 
of  the  nations  ;  that  we  have  an  interest,  therefore,  in  the  pre 
servation  of  that  system  of  national  law  and  national  inter 
course,  which  has  heretofore  subsisted,  so  beneficially  for  all. 
Our  system  of  government,  it  should  also  be  remembered,  is, 
throughout,  founded  on  principles  utterly  hostile  to  the  new 
code  ;  and,  if  we  remain  undisturbed  by  ils  operation,  we 
shall  owe  our  security,  either  to  our  situation  or  our  spirit. 
The  enterprising  character  of  the  age,  our  own  active  com 
mercial  spirit,  the  great  increase  which  has  taken  place  in  the 
intercourse  between  civilized  and  commercial  states,  have  ne 
cessarily  connected  us  with  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  giv 
en  us  a  high  concern  in  the  preservation  of  those  salutary 


20 

principles,  upon  which  that  intercourse  is  founded.  We  have 
as  clear  an  interest  in  international  law,  as  individuals  have 
in  the  laws  of  society. 

But,  apart  from  the  soundness  of  the  policy,  on  the  ground 
of  direct  interest,  we  have,  Sir,  a  duty,  connected  with  this 
subject,  which,  I  trust,  we  are  willing  to  perform.  What  do 
we  not  owe  to  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  ?  to  the 
principle  of  lawful  resistance  ?  to  the  principle  that  society 
has  a  right  to  partake  in  its  own  government  ?  As  the  lead 
ing  Republic  of  the  world,  living  and  breathing  in  these  prin 
ciples,  and  advanced,  by  their  operation,  with  unequalled  ra 
pidity,  in  our  career,  shall  we  give  our  consent  to  bring  them 
into  disrepute  and  disgrace  ?  It  is  neither  ostentation  nor 
boasting,  to  say,  that  there  lie  before  this  country,  in  immedi 
ate  prospect,  a  great  extent  and  height  of  power.  We  are 
borne  along  towards  this,  without  effort,  and  not  always  even 
with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  rapidity  of  our  own  motion.  Cir 
cumstances  which  never  combined  before,  have  combined  in 
our  favour,  and  a  mighty  current  is  setting  us  forward,  which 
we  could  not  resist,  even  if  we  would,  and  which,  while  we 
would  stop  to  make  an  observation,  and  take  the  sun,  has  set 
us,  at  the  end  of  the  operation,  far  in  advance  of  the  place 
where  we  commenced  it.  Does  it  not  become  us,  then,  is  it 
not  a  duty  imposed  on  us,  to  give  our  weight  to  the  side  of 
liberty  and  justice — to  let  mankind  know  that  we  are  not  tir 
ed  of  our  own  institutions — and  to  protest  against  the  assert 
ed  power  of  altering,  at  pleasure,  the  law  of  the  civilized 

world  ? 

But  whatever  we  do,  in  this  respect,  it  becomes  us  to  do 
upon  clear  and  consistent  principles.  There  is  an  important 
topic  in  the  Message,  to  which  I  have  yet  hardly  alluded.  I 
mean  the  rumoured  combination  of  the  European  continental 
sovereigns,  against  the  new  established  free  states  of  South 
America.  Whatever  position  this  government  may  take  on 
that  subject,  I  trust  it  will  be  one  which  can  be  defended,  on 
known  and  acknowledged  grounds  of  right.  The  near  ap 
proach,  or  the  remote  distance  of  danger,  may  affect  policy, 


21 

but  cannot  change  principle.  The  same  reason  that  would 
authorize  us  to  protest  against  unwarrantable  combinations  to 
interfere  between  Spain  and  her  former  colonies,  would  au 
thorize  us  equally  to  protest,  if  the  same  combination  were 
directed  against  the  smallest  state  in  Europe,  although  our  du 
ty  to  ourselves,  our  policy,  and  wisdom,  might  indicate  very 
different  courses,  as  fit  to  be  pursued  by  us  in  the  two  cases. 
We  shall  not,  I  trust,  act  upon  the  notion  of  dividing  the  world 
with  the  Holy  Alliance,  and  complain  of  nothing  done  by 
them  in  their  hemisphere,  if  they  will  not  interfere  with  ours. 
At  least  this  would  not  be  such  a  course  of  policy  as  I  could 
recommend  or  support.  We  have  not  offended,  and,  I  hope, 
we  do  not  intend  to  offend,  in  regard  to  South  America, 
against  any  principle  of  national  independence  or  of  public 
law.  We  have  done  nothing,  we  shall  do  nothing,  that  we 
need  to  hush  up  or  to  compromise,  by  forbearing  to  express 
our  sympathy  for  the  cause  of  the  Greeks,  or  our  opinion  of 
the  course  which  other  governments  have  adopted  in  regard 
to  them. 

It  may,  in  the  next  place,  be  asked,  perhaps,  supposing  all 
this  to  be  true,  what  can  we  do  ?  Are  we  to  go  to  war  ?  Are 
we  to  interfere  in  the  Greek  cause,  or  any  other  European 
cause  ?  Are  we  to  endanger  our  pacific  relations  ? — No,  cer 
tainly  not.  What,  then,  the  question  recurs,  remains  for  us  ? 
If  we  will  not  endanger  our  own  peace  ;  if  we  will  neither 
furnish  armies,  nor  navies,  to  the  cause  which  we  think  the 
just  one,  what  is  there  within  our  power  ? 

Sir,  this  reasoning  mistakes  the  age.  The  time  has  been, 
indeed,  when  fleets,  and  armies,  and  subsidies,  were  the  prin 
cipal  reliances  even  in  the  best  cause.  But,  happily  for  man 
kind,  there  has  come  a  great  change  in  this  respect.  Moral 
causes  come  into  consideration,  in  proportion  as  the  progress 
of  knowledge  is  advanced  ;  and  the  public  opinion  of  the 
civilized  world  is  rapidly  gaining  an  ascendancy  over  mere 
brutal  force.  It  is  already  able  to  oppose  the  most  formidable 
obstruction  to  the  progress  of  injustice  and  oppression ;  and, 
as  it  grows  more  intelligent  and  more  intense,  it  will  be  more 


and  more  formidable.  It  may  be  silenced  by  military  power, 
but  it  cannot  be  conquered.  It  is  elastic,  irrepressible,  and 
invulnerable  to  the  weapons  of  ordinary  warfare.  It  is  that 
impassible,  unextinguishable  enemy  of  mere  violence  and  ar 
bitrary  rule,  which,  like  Milton's  angels, 

"  Vital  in  every  part, 

"  Cannot,  but  by  annihilating,  die." 

Until  this  be  propitiated  or  satisfied,  it  is  vain  for  power  to 
talk  either  of  triumphs  or  of  repose.  No  matter  what  fields 
are  desolated,  what  fortresses  surrendered,  what  armies  sub 
dued,  or  what  provinces  overrun.  In  the  history  of  the  year 
that  has  passed  by  us,  and  in  the  instance  of  unhappy  Spain, 
we  have  seen  the  vanity  of  all  triumphs,  in  a  cause  which  vi 
olates  the  general  sense  of  justice  of  the  civilized  world.  It 
is  nothing,  that  the  troops  of  France  have  passed  from  the 
Pyrenees  to  Cadiz ;  it  is  nothing  that  an  unhappy  and  pros 
trate  nation  has  fallen  before  them  ;  it  is  nothing  that  arrests, 
and  confiscation,  and  execution,  sweep  away  the  little  rem 
nant  of  national  resistance.  There  is  an  enemy  that  still  ex 
ists  to  check  the  glory  of  these  triumphs.  It  follows  the  con 
queror  back  to  the  very  scene  of  his  ovations  ;  it  calls  upon 
him  to  take  notice  that  Europe,  though  silent,  is  yet  indignant; 
it  shows  him  that  the  sceptre  of  his  victory  is  a  barren  scep 
tre  ;  that  it  shall  confer  neither  joy  nor  honour,  but  shall 
moulder  to  dry  ashes  in  his  grasp.  In  the  midst  of  his  exult 
ation,  it  pierces  his  ear  with  the  cry  of  injured  justice,  it  de 
nounces  against  him  the  indignation  of  an  enlightened  and 
civilized  age  ;  it  turns  to  bitterness  the  cup  of  his  rejoicing, 
and  wounds  him  with  the  sting  which  belongs  to  the  conscious 
ness  of  having  outraged  the  opinion  of  mankind. 

In  my  own  opinion,  Sir,  the  Spanish  nation  is  now  nearer 
not  only  in  point  of  time,  but  in  point  of  circumstance,  to  the 
acquisition  of  a  regulated  government,  than  at  the  moment  of 
the  French  invasion.  Nations  must,  no  doubt,  undergo  these 
trials  in  their  progress  to  the  establishment  of  free  institutions. 
The  very  trials  benefit  them,  and  render  them  more  capable 
both  of  obtaining  and  of  enjoying  the  object  which  they  seek. 


I  shall  not  detain  the  Committee,  Sir,  by  laying  before  it 
any  statistical,  geographical,  or  commercial  account  of  Greece. 
I  have  no  knowledge  on  these  subjects,  which  is  not  common 
to  all.  It  is  universally  admitted,  that  within  the  last  thirty  or 
forty  years,  the  condition  of  Greece  has  been  greatly  improv 
ed.  Her  marine  is  at  present  respectable,  containing  the  best 
sailors  in  the  Mediterranean,  better  even,  in  that  sea,  than 
our  own,  as  more  accustomed  to  the  long  quarantines,  and 
other  regulations  which  prevail  in  its  ports.  The  number  of 
her  seamen  has  been  estimated  as  high  as  50,000,  but  I  sup 
pose  that  estimate  must  be  much  too  large.  They  have  prob- 
bly  150,000  tons  of  shipping.  It  is  not  easy  to  state  an  ac 
curate  account  of  Grecian  population.  The  Turkish  gov 
ernment  does  not  trouble  itself  with  any  of  the  calculations  of 
political  economy,  and  there  has  never  been  such  a  thing  as 
an  accurate  census,  probably,  in  any  part  of  the  Turkish  em 
pire.  In  the  absence  of  all  official  information,  private  opin 
ions  widely  differ.  By  the  tables  which  have  been  commu 
nicated,  it  would  seem  that  there  are  2,400,000  Greeks  in 
Greece  Proper  and  the  Islands ;  an  amount,  as  I  am  inclined 
to  think,  somewhat  overrated.  There  are,  probably,  in  the 
whole  of  European  Turkey,  5,000,000  Greeks,  and  2,000,000 
more  in  the  Asiatic  dominions  of  that  power.  The  moral 
and  intellectual  progress  of  this  numerous  population,  under 
the  horrible  oppression  which  crushes  it,  has  been  such  as  may- 
well  excite  regard.  Slaves,  under  barbarous  masters,  the  Greeks 
have  still  aspired  after  the  blessings  of  knowledge  and  civiliza 
tion.  Before  the  breaking  out  of  the  present  revolution,  they  had 
established  schools,  and  colleges,  and  libraries,  and  the  press. 
Wherever,  as  in  Scio,  owing  to  particular  circumstances,  the 
weight  of  oppression  was  mitigated,  the  natural  vivacity  of 
the  Greeks,  and  their  aptitude  for  the  arts,  were  discovered. 
Though  certainly  not  on  an  equality  with  the  civilized  and 
Christian  states  of  Europe,  (and  how  is  it  possible  under  such 
oppression  as  they  endured  that  they  should  be  ?)  they  yet 
furnished  a  striking  contrast  with  their  Tartar  masters.  It  has 
been  well  said,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  form  a  just  conception 


24 

of  the  nature  of  the  despotism  exercised  over  them.  Con 
quest  and  subjugation,  as  used  among  European  states,  are 
inadequate  modes  of  expression  by  which  to  denote  the  do 
minion  of  the  Turks.  A  conquest,  in  the  civilized  world,  is 
generally  no  more  than  an  acquisition  of  a  new  part  to  the 
conquering  country.  It  does  not  imply  a  never-ending  bond 
age  imposed  upon  the  conquered,  a  perpetual  mark,  and  op 
probrious  distinction  between  them  and  their  masters  ;  a  bit 
ter  and  unending  persecution  of  their  religion ;  an  habitual 
violation  of  their  rights  of  person  and  property,  and  the  un 
restrained  indulgence  towards  them,  of  every  passion, 
which  belongs  to  the  character  of  a  barbarous  soldiery. 
Yet,  such  is  the  state  of  Greece.  The  Ottoman  'pow 
er  over  them,  obtained  originally  by  the  sword,  is  constantly 
preserved  by  the  same  means.  Wherever  it  exists,  it  is  a 
mere  military  power.  The  religious  and  civil  code  of  the 
state,  being  both  fixed  in  the  Alcoran,  and  equally  the  object 
of  an  ignorant  and  furious  faith,  have  been  found  equally  in 
capable  of  change.  "  The  Turk,"  it  has  been  said,  "  has  been 
encamped  in  Europe  for  four  centuries."  He  has  hardly  any 
more  participation  in  European  manners,  knowledge,  and  arts, 
than  when  he  crossed  the  Bosphorus.  But  this  is  not  the 
worst  of  it.  The  power  of  the  empire  is  fallen  into  anarchy, 
and  as  the  principle  which  belongs  to  the  head  belongs  also 
to  the  parts,  there  are  as  many  despots  as  there  are  pachas, 
beys,  and  visiers.  Wars  are  almost  perpetual,  between  the 
sultan  and  some  rebellious  governor  of  a  province  ;  and  in 
the  conflict  of  these  despotisms,  the  people  are  necessarily 
ground  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  millstone.  In  short, 
the  Christian  subjects  of  the  sublime  Porte,  feel  daily  all  the 
miseries  which  flow  from  despotism,  from  anarchy,  from  slave 
ry,  and  from  religious  persecution.  If  any  thing  yet  remains 
to  heighten  such  a  picture,  let  it  be  added,  that  every  office  in 
the  government  is  not  only  actually,  but  professedly,  venal ; — 
the  pachalics,  the  visierates,  the  cadiships,  and  whatsoever 
other  denomination  may  denote  the  depositary  of  power.  In 
the  whole  world,  Sir,  there  is  no  such  oppression  felt,  as  by 


25 

the  Christian  Greeks.  In  various  parts  of  India,  to  be  sure, 
the  government  is  bad  enough;  but  then  it  is  the  government 
of  barbarians  over  barbarians,  and  the  feeling  of  oppression 
is,  of  course,  not  so  keen.  There  the  oppressed  are  perhaps 
not  better  than  their  oppressors ;  but  in  the  case  of  Greece, 
there  are  millions  of  Christian  men,  not  without  knowledge, 
not  without  refinement,  not  without  a  strong  thirst  for  all  the 
pleasures  of  civilized  life,  trampled  into  the  very  earth,  cen 
tury  after  century,  by  a  pillaging,  savage,  relentless  soldiery. 
Sir,  the  case  is  unique.  There  exists,  and  has  existed,  noth 
ing  like  it.  The  world  has  no  such  misery  to  show ;  there  is 
no  case  in  which  Christian  communities  can  be  called  upon, 
with  such  emphasis  of  appeal. 

But  I  have  said  enough,  Mr.  Chairman,  indeed  I  need  have 
said  nothing  to  satisfy  the  House,  that  it  must  be  some  new 
combination  of  circumstances,  or  new  views  of  policy  in  the 
cabinets  of  Europe,  which  have  caused  this  interesting  struggle 
not  merely  to  be  regarded  with  indifference,  but  to  be  mark 
ed  with  opprobrium.  The  very  statement  of  the  case,  as  a 
contest  between  the  Turks  and  Greeks,  sufficiently  indicates 
what  must  be  the  feeling  of  every  individual,  and  every  gov 
ernment,  that  is  not  biassed  by  a  particular  interest,  or  a  par 
ticular  feeling,  to  disregard  the  dictates  of  justice  and  hu 
manity. 

And  now,  Sir,  what  has  been  the  conduct  pursued  by  the 
Allied  Powers,  in  regard  to  this  contest  ?  When  the  revolu 
tion  broke  out,  the  sovereigns  were  in  Congress  at  Laybach  ; 
and  the  papers  of  that  assembly  sufficiently  manifest  their  sen 
timents.  They  proclaimed  their  abhorrence  of  those  "  crimi 
nal  combinations  which  had  been  formed  in  the  eastern  parts 
of  Europe  ;"  and,  although  it  is  possible  that  this  denuncia 
tion  was  aimed,  more  particularly,  at  the  disturbances  in  the 
provinces  of  Wallachia  and  Moldavia,  yet  no  exception  is 
made,  from  its  general  terms,  in  favour  of  those  events  in 
Greece,  which  were  properly  the  commencement  of  her  re 
volution,  and  which  could  not  but  be  well  known  at  Laybach. 
before  the  date  of  these  declarations.  Now  it  must  be  re- 
4 


26 

membered,  that  Russia  was  a  leading  party  in  this  denuncia 
tion  of  the  efforts  of  the  Greeks  to  achieve  their  liberation  ; 
and  it  cannot  but  be  expected  by  Russia  that  the  world  shall 
also  remember  what  part  she  herself  has  heretofore  acted,  in 
the  same  concern.  It  is  notorious,  that  within  the  last  half 
century  she  has  again  and  again  excited  the  Greeks  to  rebel 
lion  against  the  Porte,  and  that  she  has  constantly  kept  alive 
in  them  the  hope  that  she  would,  one  day,  by  her  own  great 
power,  break  the  yoke  of  their  oppressor.  Indeed,  the  earn 
est  attention  with  which  Russia  has  regarded  Greece,  goes 
much  farther  back  than  to  the  time  I  have  mentioned.  Ivan  < 
the  Third,  in  1482,  having  espoused  a  Grecian  princess,  heir 
ess  of  the  last  Greek  emperor,  discarded  St.  George  from  the 
Russian  arms,  and  adopted  in  its  stead  the  Greek  two-headed 
black  eagle,  which  has  continued  in  the  Russian  arms  to  the 
present  day.  In  virtue  of  the  same  marriage,  the  Russian 
princes  claimed  the  Greek  throne  as  their  inheritance. 

Xlnder  Peter  the  Great,  the  policy  of  Russia  developed 
itself  more  fully.  In  1696,  he  rendered  himself  master  of 
Azoph,  and  in  1698,  obtained  the  right  to  pass  the  Dardanelles, 
and  to  maintain,  by  that  route,  commercial  intercourse  with 
the  Mediterranean.  He  had  emissaries  throughout  Greece, 
and  particularly  applied  himself  to  gain  the  clergy.  He 
adopted  the  Labarum  of  Constantine,  "  In  hoc  signo  vinces  ;" 
and  medals  were  struck,  with  the  inscription,  "  Petrus  L 
Russo-GrcEcorum  Imperator."  In  whatever  new  direction 
the  principles  of  the  Holy  Alliance  may  now  lead  the  politics 
of  Russia,  or  whatever  course  she  may  suppose  Christianity 
now  prescribes  to  her,  in  regard  to  the  Greek  cause,  the  time 
has  been  when  she  professed  to  be  contending  for  that  cause, 
as  identified  with  Christianity.  The  white  banner  under 
which  the  soldiers  of  Peter  the  First  usually  fought,  bore,  as 
its  inscription,  "  In  the  name  of  the  Prince,  and  for  our  coun 
try.19  Relying  on  the  aid  of  the  Greeks,  in  his  war  with  the 
Porte,  he  changed  the  white  flag  to  red,  and  displayed  on  it 
the  words,  "  In  the  name  of  God,  and  for  Christianity"  The 
unfortunate  issue  of  this  war  is  well  known.  Though  Anne 


27 

and  Elizabeth,  the  successors  of  Peter,  did  not  possess  his 
active  character,  they  kept  up  a  constant  communication  with 
Greece,  and  held  out  hopes  of  restoring  the  Greek  empire. 
Catharine  the  Second,  as  is  well  known,  excited  a  general  re 
volt  in  1769.  A  Russian  fleet  appeared  in  the  Mediterranean, 
and  a  Russian  army  was  landed  in  the  Morea.  The  Greeks 
in  the  end  were  disgusted  by  being  required  to  take  an  oath 
of  allegiance  to  Russia,  and  the  empress  was  disgusted  be 
cause  they  refused  to  take  it.  In  1774,  peace  was  signed  be 
tween  Russia  and  the  Porte,  and  the  Greeks  of  the  Morea 
were  left  to  their  fate.  By  this  treaty  the  Porte  acknowledged 
the  independence  of  the  khan  of  the  Crimea  ;  a  preliminary 
step  to  the  acquisition  of  that  country  by  Russia.  It  is  not 
unworthy  of  remark,  as  a  circumstance  which  distinguished 
this  from  most  other  diplomatic  transactions,  that  it  conceded 
the  right  to  the  cabinet  of  St.  Petersburg,  of  intervention  in 
the  interior  affairs  of  Turkey,  in  regard  to  whatever  concern 
ed  the  religion  of  the  Greeks.  The  cruelties  and  massacres 
that  happened  to  the  Greeks  after  the  peace  between  Russia 
and  the  Porte,  notwithstanding  the  general  pardon  which  had 
been  stipulated  for  them,  need  not  now  be  recited.  Instead 
of  retracing  the  deplorable  picture,  it  is  enough  to  say,  that 
in  this  respect  the  past  is  justly  reflected  in  the  present.  The 
empress  soon  after  invaded  and  conquered  the  Crimea,  and 
on  one  of  the  gates  of  Kerson,  its  capital,  caused  to  be  in 
scribed,  "  The  road  to  Byzantium"  The  present  emperor, 
on  his  accession  to  the  throne,  manifested  an  intention 
to  adopt  the  policy  of  Catharine  II.  as  his  own,  and  the 
world  has  not  been  right,  in  all  its  suspicions,  if  a  project  for 
the  partition  of  Turkey  did  not  form  a  part  of  the  negotia 
tions  of  Napoleon  and  Alexander  at  Tilsit. 

All  this  course  of  policy  seems  suddenly  to  be  changed. 
Turkey  is  no  longer  regarded,  it  would  appear,  as  an  object 
of  partition  or  acquisition,  and  Greek  revolts  have,  all  at  once, 
become,  according  to  the  declaration  of  Laybach,  "  criminal 
combinations."  The  recent  congress  at  Verona  exceeded  its  pre 
decessor  at  Laybach,  in  its  denunciations  of  the  Greek  struggle. 


28 

Jn  the  circular  of  the  14th  of  December,  1822,  it  declared  the 
Grecian  resistance  to  the   Turkish  power  to  be  rash   and  cul 
pable,  and  lamented  that  "  the  firebrand  of  rebellion  had  been 
thrown  into  the  Ottoman  empire."     This  rebuke  and  crimina 
tion  we  know  to  have  proceeded  on  those  settled  principles  of 
conduct,   which   the  continental   powers  had    prescribed   for 
themselves.     The  sovereigns  saw,  as  well   as  others,  the   real 
condition  of  the  Greeks  ;  they  knew,  as  well  as  others,  that 
it  was  most  natural  and   most  justifiable,  that  they  should  en 
deavour,  at  whatever  hazard,  to  change  that  condition.     They 
knew,  that  they,  themselves,   or  at  least  one  of  them,   had 
more  than  once  urged  the  Greeks  to  similar  efforts  ;  that  they, 
themselves,  had   thrown   the  same  firebrand  into  the  midst  of 
the  Ottoman  empire.     And  yet,  so  much  does  it   seem  to  be 
their  fixed  object  to   discountenance  whatsoever  threatens  to 
disturb  the  actual  government  of  any  country,  that,  Christians 
as  they  were,  and  allied  as  they  professed  to  be,  for  purposes 
most  important  to  human   happiness  and   religion,  they   have 
not  hesitated  to  declare  to  the  world,  that  they   have  wholly 
forborne  to  exercise  any  compassion  to  the   Greeks,  simply 
because  they  thought  that  they   saw,  in  the  struggles  of  the 
Morea,  the  sign  of  revolution.      This,  then,  is  coming  to  a 
plain,  practical   result.      The  Grecian    revolution   has   been 
discouraged,    discountenanced,  and   denounced,  for  no  reason 
but  because  it  is  a  revolution.      Independent  of  all   inquiry 
into  the  reasonableness  of  its  causes,  or  the   enormity  of  the 
oppression   which   produced   it ;    regardless  of  the   peculiar 
claims  which  Greece  possesses  upon  the  civilized  world ;  and 
regardless  of  what  has   been  their   own  conduct  towards  her 
for  a  century  ;    regardless  of  the   interest  of  the   Christian 
religion,  the  sovereigns  at  Verona  seized  upon  the  case  of  the 
Greek  revolution,  as  one  above  all   others  calculated  to  illus 
trate  the  fixed   principles  of  their  policy.     The  abominable 
rule  of  the  Porte  on  one  side,  the  valour  and  the  sufferings  of 
the  Christian  Greeks  on  the  other,  furnished  a  case  likely  to  con 
vince  even  an  incredulous  world  of  the  sincerity  of  the  pro- 


29 

fessions  of  the  Allied  Powers.     They  embraced  the  occasion 
with  apparent  ardour ;  and  the  world,  1  trust,  is  satisfied. 

We  see  here,  Mr.  Chairman,  the  direct  and  actual  applica 
tion  of  that  system  which  I  have  attempted  to  describe.  We 
see  it  in  the  very  case  of  Greece.  We  learn,  authentically  and 
indisputably,  that  the  Allied  Powers,  holding  that  all  changes 
in  legislation  and  administration  ought  to  proceed  from  kings 
alone,  were  wholly  inexorable  to  the  sufferings  of  the  Greeks, 
and  wholly  hostile  to  their  success.  Now  it  is  upon  this 
practical  result  of  the  principle  of  the  continental  powers, 
that  I  wish  this  House  to  intimate  its  opinion.  The  great 
question  is  a  question  of  principle.  Greece  is  only  the  signal 
instance  of  the  application  of  that  principle.  If  the  principle 
be  right,  if  we  esteem  it  conformable  to  the  law  of  nations,  if 
we  have  nothing  to  say  against  it,  or  if  we  deem  ourselves 
unfit  to  express  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  then,  of  course,  no 
resolution  ought  to  pass.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  see  in 
the  declarations  of  the  Allied  Powers,  principles  not  only 
utterly  hostile  to  our  own  free  institutions,  but  hostile  also  to 
the  independence  of  all  nations,  and  altogether  opposed  to 
the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  human  nature  ;  if,  in 
the  instance  before  us,  we  see  a  most  striking  exposition  and 
application  of  those  principles,  and  if  we  deem  our  own  opin 
ions  to  be  entitled  to  any  weight  in  the  estimation  of  mankind; 
then,  I  think,  it  is  our  duty  to  adopt  some  such  measure  as 
the  proposed  resolution. 

It  is  worthy  of  observation,  Sir,  that  as  early  as  July,  1821, 
Baron  Strogonoff,  the  Russian  minister  at  Constantinople, 
represented  to  the  Porte,  that,  if  the  undistinguished  massa 
cres  of  the  Greeks,  both  of  such  as  were  in  open  resistance, 
and  of  those  who  remained  patient  in  their  submission,  were 
continued,  and  should  become  a  settled  habit,  they  would 
give  just  cause  of  war  against  the  Porte  to  all  Christian  states. 
This  was  in  1821.  It  was  followed,  early  in  the  next  year, 
by  that  indescribable  enormity,  that  appalling  monument  of 
barbarian  cruelty,  the  destruction  of  Scio  ;  a  scene  I  shall  not 
attempt  to  describe  ;  a  scene  from  which  human  nature 


30 

.shrinks  shuddering  away  ;  a  scene  having  hardly  a  parallel  in 
the  history  of  fallen  man.  This  scene,  too,  was  quickly  follow 
ed  by  the  massacres  in  Cyprus  ;  and  all  these  things  were  per 
fectly  known  to  the  Christian  powers  assembled  at  Verona. 
Yet  these  powers,  instead  of  acting  upon  the  case  supposed 
by  Baron  Strogonoff,  and  which,  one  would  think,  had  been 
then  fully  made  out ;  instead  of  being  moved  by  any  compas 
sion  for  the  sufferings  of  the  Greeks;  these  powers,  these 
Christian  powers,  rebuke  their  gallantry,  and  insult  their  suf 
ferings,  by  accusing  them  of  "  throwing  a  firebrand  into  the 
Ottoman  empire." 

Such,  Sir,  appear  to  me  to  be  the  principles  on  which  the 
continental  powers  of  Europe  have  agreed  hereafter  to  act; 
and  this,  an  eminent  instance  of  the  application  of  those 
principles. 

I  shall  not  detain  the  Committee,  Mr.  Chairman,  by  any 
attempt  to  recite  the  events  of  the  Greek  struggle,  up  to  the 
present  time.  Its  origin  may  be  found,  doubtless,  in  that 
improved  state  of  knowledge,  which,  for  some  years,  has 
been  gradually  taking  place  in  that  country.  The  emancipa 
tion  of  the  Greeks  has  been  a  subject  frequently  discussed 
in  modern  times.  They  themselves  are  represented  as  hav 
ing  a  vivid  remembrance  of  the  distinction  of  their  ancestors, 
not  unmixed  with  an  indignant  feeling,  that  civilized  and 
Christian  Europe  should  not,  ere  now,  have  aided  them  in 
breaking  their  intolerable  fetters. 

In  1816,  a  society  was  founded  in  Vienna,  for  the  en 
couragement  of  Grecian  literature.  It  was  connected  with  a 
similar  institution  at  Athens,  and  another  in  Thessaly,  called 
the  "  Gymnasium  of  Mount  Pelion."  The  treasury  and 
general  office  of  the  institution  was  established  at  Munich. 
No  political  object  was  avowed  by  these  institutions,  proba 
bly  none  contemplated.  Still,  however,  they  have,  no  doubt, 
had  their  effect  in  hastening  that  condition  of  things,  in  which 
the  Greeks  felt  competent  to  the  establishment  of  their  inde 
pendence.  Many  young  men  have  been,  for  years,  annually 
sent  to  the  universities  in  the  western  states  of  Europe  for 


31 

their  education  ;  and,  after  the  general  pacification  of  Europe, 
many  military  men,  discharged  from  other  employment,  were 
ready  to  enter  even  into  so  unpromising  a  service  as  that  of 
the  revolutionary  Greeks. 

In  1820,  war  commenced  between  the  Porte  and  Ali,  the 
well  known  pacha  of  Albania.  Differences  existed  also  with 
Persia,  and  with  Russia.  In  this  state  of  things,  at  the  begin 
ning  of  1821,  an  insurrection  appears  to  have  broken  out  in 
Moldavia,  under  the  direction  of  Alexander  Ypsilanti,  a  well 
educated  soldier,  who  had  been  maior-general  in  the  Russian 
service.  From  his  character,  and  the  number  of  those  who 
seemed  disposed  to  join  him,  he  was  supposed  to  be  counte 
nanced  by  the  court  of  St.  Petersburg.  This,  however,  was 
a  great  mistake,  which  the  emperor,  then  at  Laybach,  took  an 
early  opportunity  to  rectify.  The  Porte,  it  would  seem, 
however,  alarmed  at  these  occurrences  in  the  northern  provin 
ces,  caused  search  to  be  made  of  all  vessels  entering  the 
Black  Sea,  lest  arms  or  other  military  means  should  be  sent 
in  that  manner  to  the  insurgents.  This  proved  inconvenient 
to  the  commerce  of  Russia,  and  caused  some  unsatisfactory  cor 
respondence  between  the  two  powers.  It  may  be  worthy  of 
remark,  as  an  exhibition  of  national  character,  that,  agitated 
by  these  appearances  of  intestine  commotion,  the  sultan  issued 
a  proclamation,  calling  on  all  true  musselmans  to  renounce 
the  pleasures  of  social  life,  to  prepare  arms  and  horses,  and  to 
return  to  the  manner  of  their  ancestors,  the  life  of  the  plains. 
The  Turk  seems  to  have  thought  that  he  had,  at  last,  caught 
something  of  the  dangerous  contagion  of  European  civiliza 
tion,  and  that  it  was  necessary  to  reform  his  habits,  by  recur 
ring  to  the  original  manners  of  military,  roving  barbarians. 

It  was  about  this  time,  that  is  to  say,  at  the  commencement 
of  1821,  that  the  Revolution  burst  out  in  various  parts  of 
Greece  and  the  Isles.  Circumstances,  certainly,  were  not 
unfavourable,  as  one  portion  of  the  Turkish  army  was  em 
ployed  in  the  war  against  Ali  Pacha  in  Albania,  and  another 
part  in  the  provinces  north  of  the  Danube.  The  Greeks  soon 
possessed  themselves  of  the  open  country  of  the  Morea,  and 


32 

drove  their  enemy  into  the  fortresses.  Of  these,  that  of 
Tripolitza,  with  the  city,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Greeks,  in 
the  course  of  the  summer.  Having  after  these  first  move 
ments  obtained  time  to  breathe,  it  became,  of  course,  an  early 
object  to  establish  a  government.  For  this  purpose  delegates 
of  the  people  assembled,  under  that  name  which  describes  the 
assembly  in  which  we  ourselves  sit,  that  name  which  "  freed 
the  Atlantic,"  a  Congress.  A  writer,  who  undertakes  to  ren 
der  to  the  civilized  world  that  service  which  was  once  per 
formed  by  Edmund  Burke,  [  mean  the  compiler  of  the  Eng 
lish  Annual  Register,  asks,  by  what  authority  this  assembly 
could  call  itself  a  Congress.  Simply,  Sir,  by  the  same  author 
ity,  by  which  the  people  of  the  United  States  have  given  the 
same  name  to  their  own  legislature.  We,  at  least,  should  be 
naturally  inclined  to  think,  not  only  as  far  as  names,  but 
things  also,  are  concerned,  that  the  Greeks  could  hardly  have 
begun  their  revolution  under  better  auspices  ;  since  they  have 
endeavoured  to  render  applicable  to  themselves  the  general 
principles  of  our  form  of  government,  as  well  as  its  name. 
This  constitution  went  into  operation  at  the  commencement 
of  the  next  year.  In  the  mean  time,  the  war  with  Ali  Pacha 
was  ended,  he  having  surrendered,  and  being  afterwards 
assassinated,  by  an  instance  of  treachery  and  perfidy,  which, 
if  it  had  happened  elsewhere  than  under  the  government  of  the 
Turks,  would  have  deserved  notice.  The  negotiation  with 
Russia,  loo,  took  a  turn  unfavourable  to  the  Greeks.  The 
great  point  upon  which  Russia  insisted,  beside  the  abandon 
ment  of  the  measure  of  searching  vessels  bound  to  the  Black 
Sea,  was,  that  the  Porte  should  withdraw  its  armies  from  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Russian  frontiers ;  and  the  immediate 
consequence  of  this,  when  effected,  was  to  add  so  much  more 
to  the  disposable  force,  ready  to  be  employed  against  the 
Greeks.  These  events  seemed  to  have  left  the  whole  force 
of  the  Empire,  at  the  commencement  of  1822,  in  a  condition 
to  be  employed  against  the  Greek  rebellion  ;  and,  accordingly, 
very  many  anticipated  the  immediate  destruction  of  their 
cause.  The  event,  however,  was  ordered  otherwise.  Where 


33 

the  greatest  effort  was  made,  it  was  met  and  defeated.  Enter 
ing  the  Morea  with  an  army  which  seemed  capable  of  bear 
ing  down  all  resistance,  the  Turks  were  nevertheless  defeated 
and  driven  back,  and  pursued  beyond  the  isthmus,  within 
which,  as  far  as  it  appears,  from  that  time  to  the  present,  they 
have  not  been  able  to  set  their  foot. 

It  was  in  April,  of  this  year,  that  the  destruction  of  Scio 
took  place.     That  island,  a  sort  of  appanage  of  the  Sultana 
mother,   enjoyed   many   privileges   peculiar   to   itself.     In  a 
population  of  130,000  or  140,000,  it  had  no  more  than  2000 
or  3000  Turks ;  indeed,  by  some  accounts  not  near  as  many. 
The  absence  of  these  ruffian   masters,  had,  in  some  degree, 
allowed  opportunity  for  the  promotion  of  knowledge,   the 
accumulation  of  wealth,  and  the  general  cultivation  of  society. 
Here  was  the  seat  of  the  modern  Greek  literature ;  here  were 
libraries,  printing  presses,  and  other   establishments,   which 
indicate   some   advancement  in  refinement    and  knowledge. 
Certain  of  the  inhabitants  of  Samos,   it  would  seem,  envious 
of  this  comparative  happiness  of  Scio,  landed  upon  the  island* 
in  an  irregular   multitude,  for  the  purpose  of  compelling  its 
inhabitants  to   make  common  cause  with  their  countrymen 
against  their  oppressors.     These,  being  joined  by  the  peasan 
try,  marched  to  the  city,  and  drove  the  Turks  into  the  castle. 
The  Turkish  fleet,  lately  reinforced  from  Egypt,  happened  to 
be  in  the  neighbouring  seas,  and  learning  these  events,  landed 
a  force  on  the  island  of  15,000  men.     There  was  nothing  to 
resist  such  an  army.     These  troops  immediately  entered  the 
city,  and  began   an   indiscriminate   massacre.     The  city  was 
fired  ;  and,  in  four  days,  the  fire  and  the  sword  of  the   Turk 
rendered  the  beautiful  Scio  a  clotted  mass  of  blood  and  ashes. 
The  details  are  too  shocking  to  be  recited.     Forty  thousand 
women   and    children,    unhappily   saved   from   the   general 
destruction,  were  afterwards  sold  in  the   market  of  Smyrna, 
and  sent  off  into  distant  and   hopeless   servitude.     Even   on 
the  wharves  of  our  own  cities,  it   has  been  said,   have  been 
sold  the  utensils  of  those  hearths  which  now  exist  no  longer. 
Of  the  whole  population  which  I  have  mentioned,  not  above 


34 

900  persons  were  left  living  upon  the  island.  I  will  only 
repeat,  Sir,  that  these  tragical  scenes  were  as  fully  known  at 
the  Congress  of  Verona,  as  they  are  now  known  to  us  ;  and 
it  is  not  too  much  to  call  on  the  powers  that  constituted  that 
Congress,  in  the  name  of  conscience,  and  in  the  name  of 
humanity,  to  tell  us,  if  there  be  nothing  even  in  these  un 
paralleled  excesses  of  Turkish  barbarity,  to  excite  a  senti 
ment  of  compassion ;  nothing  which  they  regard  as  so  objec 
tionable  as  even  the  very  idea  of  popular  resistance  to 
power. 

The  events  of  the  year  which  has  just  passed  by,  as  far  as 
they  have  become  known  to  us,  have  been  even  more  fa 
vourable  to  the  Greeks,  than  those  of  the  year  preceding.  I 
omit  all  details,  as  being  as  well  known  to  others  as  to  my 
self.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  with  no  other  enemy  to  contend 
with,  and  no  diversion  of  his  force  to  other  objects,  the  Porte 
has  not  been  able  to  carry  the  war  into  the  Morea;  and  that, 
by  the  last  accounts,  its  armies  were  acting  defensively  in 
Thessaly.  I  pass  over  also  the  naval  engagements  of  the 
Greeks,  although  that  is  a  mode  of  warfare  in  which  they  are 
calculated  to  excel,  and  in  which  they  have  already  perform 
ed  actions  of  such  distinguished  skill  and  bravery,  as  would 
draw  applause  upon  the  best  mariners  in  the  world.  The 
present  state  of  the  war  would  seem  to  be,  that  the  Greeks 
possess  the  whole  of  the  Morea,  with  the  exception  of  the 
three  fortresses  of  Patras,  Coron,  and  Modon  ;  all  Candia 
but  one  fortress  ;  and  most  of  the  other  islands.  They  pos 
sess  the  citadel  of  Athens,  Missolunghi,  and  several  other 
places  in  Livadia.  They  have  been  able  to  act  on  the  offen 
sive  and  to  carry  the  war  beyond  the  isthmus.  There  is  no 
reason  to  believe  their  marine  is  weakened  ;  probably  on  the 
other  hand,  it  is  strengthened.  But,  what  is  most  of  all  im 
portant,  they  have  obtained  time  and  experience.  They 
have  awakened  a  sympathy  throughout  Europe  and  through 
out  America  ;  and  they  have  formed  a  government  which 
seems  suited  to  the  emergency  of  their  condition. 

Sir,  they  have   done  much.     It  would  be  great  injustice  to 


35 

compare  their  achievements  with  our  own.  We  began  our 
revolution,  already  possessed  of  government,  and,  compara 
tively,  of  civil  liberty.  Our  ancestors  had,  for  centuries,  been 
accustomed  in  a  great  measure  to  govern  themselves.  They 
were  well  acquainted  with  popular  elections  and  legislative 
assemblies,  and  the  general  principles  and  practice  of  free 
governments.  They  had  little  else  to'  do  than  to  throw  off 
the  paramount  authority  of  the  parent  state.  Enough  was 
still  left,  both  of  law  and  of  organization,  to  conduct  society 
in  its  accustomed  course,  and  to  unite  men  together  for  a 
common  object.  The  Greeks,  of  course,  could  act  with  little 
concert  at  the  beginning  ;  they  were  unaccustomed  to  the 
exercise  of  power,  without  experience,  with  limited  knowl 
edge,  without  aid,  and  surrounded  by  nations,  which,  whatev 
er  claims  the  Greeks  might  seem  to  have  had  upon  them, 
have  afforded  them  nothing  but  discouragement  and  reproach. 
They  have  held  out,  however,  for  three  campaigns  ;  and  that, 
at  least,  is  something.  Constantinople  and  the  northern  prov 
inces  have  sent  forth  thousands  of  troops  ; — they  have  been 
defeated.  Tripoli,  and  Algiers,  and  Egypt,  have  contributed 
their  marine  contingents  ; — they  have  not  kept  the  ocean. 
Hordes  of  Tartars  have  crossed  the  Bosphorus  ; — they  have 
died  where  the  Persians  died.  The  powerful  monarchies  in  the 
neighbourhood  have  denounced  their  cause,  and  admonished 
them  to  abandon  it,  and  submit  to  their  fate.  They  have  an 
swered  them,  thai,  although  two  hundred  thousand  of  their 
countrymen  have  offered  up  their  lives,  there  yet  remain  lives 
to  offer;  and  that  it  is  the  determination  of  all,  "  yes,  of 
ALL,"  to  persevere  until  they  shall  have  established  their  lib 
erty,  or  until  the  power  of  their  oppressors  shall  have  relieved 
them  from  the  burthen  of  existence. 

It  may  now  be  asked,  perhaps,  whether  the  expression  of 
our  own  sympathy,  and  that  of  the  country,  may  do  them 
good  ?  I  hope  it  may.  It  may  give  them  courage  and  spirit, 
it  may  assure  them  of  public  regard,  teach  them  that  they 
are  not  wholly  forgotten  by  the  civilized  world,  and  inspire 
them  with  constancy  in  the  pursuit  of  their  great  end.  At 


B? 


36 

any  rate,  Sir,  it  appars  to  me,  that  the  measure  which  I  have 
proposed  is  due  to  our  own  character,  and  called  for  by  our 
own  duty.  When  we  shall  have  discharged  that  duty,  we 
may  leave  the  rest  to  the  disposition  of  Providence. 

I  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  doubted,  that  this  measure  is 
entirely  pacific:  I  profess  my  inability  to  perceive  that  it  has 
any  possible  tendency  to  involve  our  neutral  relations.  If  the 
resolution  pass,  it  is  not,  necessarily,  to  be  immediately  acted 
on.  It  will  not  be  acted  on  at  all,  unless,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
President,  a  proper  and  safe  occasion  for  acting  upon  it  shall 
arise.  If  we  adopt  the  resolution  to-day,  our  relations  with 
every  foreign  state  will  be  to-morrow  precisely  what  they 
now  are.  The  resolution  will  be  sufficient  to  express  our 
sentiments  on  the  subjects  to  which  I  have  adverted.  Useful 
to  that  purpose,  it  can  be  mischievous  to  no  purpose.  If  the 
topic  were  properly  introduced  into  the  Message,  it  cannot 
be  improperly  introduced  into  discussion  in  this  House.  If  it 
were  proper,  which  no  one  doubts,  for  the  President  to  ex 
press  his  opinions  upon  it,  it  cannot,  1  think,  be  improper  for 
us  to  express  ours.  The  only  certain  effect  of  this  resolution 
is  to  express,  in  a  form  usual  in  bodies  constituted  like  this, 
our  approbation  of  the  general  sentiment  of  the  Message.  Do 
we  wish  to  withhold  that  approbation  ?  The  Resolution  con 
fers  on  the  President  no  new  power,  nor  does  it  enjoin  on  him 
the  exercise  of  any  new  duty  ;  nor  does  it  hasten  him  in  the 
discharge  of  any  existing  duty. 

I  cannot  imagine  that  this  resolution  can  add  any  thing  to 
those  excitements  which  it  has  been  supposed,  I  think  very 
causelessly,  might  possibly  provoke  the  Turkish  government 
to  acts  of  hostility.  There  is  already  the  Message,  express 
ing  the  hope  of  success  to  the  Greeks,  and  disaster  to  the 
Turks,  in  a  much  stronger  manner  than  is  to  be  implied  from 
the  terms  of  this  resolution.  There  is  the  correspondence 
between  the  Secretary  of  State  and  the  Greek  Agent  in  Lon 
don,  already  made  public,  in  which  similar  wishes  are  ex 
pressed,  and  a  continuance  of  the  correspondence  apparently 
invited.  I  might  add  to  this,  the  unexampled  burst  of  feeling 


37 

which  this  cause  has  called  forth  from  all  classes  of  society, 
and  the  notorious  fact  of  pecuniary  contributions  made 
throughout  the  country  for  its  aid  and  advancement.  After 
all  this,  whoever  can  see  cause  of  danger  to  our  pacific  rela 
tions  from  the  adoption  of  this  resolution,  has  a  keener  vision 
than  I  can  pretend  to.  Sir,  there  is  no  augmented  danger  ; 
there  is  no  danger.  The  question  comes  at  last  to  this, 
whether,  on  a  subject  of  this  sort,  this  House  holds  an  opin 
ion  which  is  worthy  to  be  expressed  ? 

Even  suppose,  Sir,  an  Agent  or  Commissioner  were  to  be 
immediately  sent, — a  measure  which  I  myself  believe  to  be 
the  proper  one, — there  is  no  breach  of  neutrality,  nor  any 
just  cause  of  offence.  Such  an  agent,  of  course,  would  not 
be  accredited  ;  he  would  not  be  a  public  minister.  The  ob 
ject  would  be  inquiry  and  information  ;  inquiry,  which  we 
have  a  right  to  make  ;  information,  which  we  are  interested 
to  possess.  If  a  dismemberment  of  the  Turkish  empire  be 
taking  place,  or  has  already  taken  place  ;  if  a  new  state  be 
rising,  or  be  already  risen,  in  the  Mediterranean,  who  can 
doubt,  that,  without  any  breach  of  neutrality,  we  may  inform 
ourselves  of  these  events,  for  the  government  of  our  own  con 
cerns  ? 

The  Greeks  have  declared  the  Turkish  coasts  in  a  state  of 
blockade  ;  may  we  not  inform  ourselves  whether  this  block 
ade  be  nominal  or  real  ?  and,  of  course,  whether  it  shall  be 
regarded  or  disregarded  ?  The  greater  our  trade  may  happen 
to  be  with  Smyrna,  a  consideration  which  seems  to  have 
alarmed  some  gentlemen,  the  greater  is  the  reason,  in  my 
opinion,  why  we  should  seek  to  be  accurately  informed  of 
those  events  which  may  affect  its  safety. 

It  seems  to  me  impossible,  therefore,  for  any  reasonable 
man  to  imagine,  that  this  resolution  can  expose  us  to  the  re 
sentment  of  the  Sublime  Porte. 

As  little  reason  is  there  for  fearing  its  consequences  upon 
the  conduct  of  the  Allied  Powers.  They  may,  very  natural 
ly,  dislike  our  sentiments  upon  the  subject  of  the  Greek  Revo 
lution  ;  but  what  those  sentiments  are,  they  will  much  more 


38 

explicitly  learn  in  the  President's  Message  than  in  this  reso 
lution.     They  might,   indeed,  prefer  that  we  should  express 
no  dissent  upon  the  doctrines  which   they  have  avowed,   and 
the  application  which  they  have   made  of  those   doctrines  to 
the  case  of  Greece.      But  I  trust  we  are  not  disposed  to 
leave   them  in  any  doubt  as  to  our  sentiments  upon  these  im 
portant  subjects.     They  have  expressed  their  opinions,  and 
do  not  call  that  expression   of  opinion,  an  interference ;   in 
which  respect  they  are  right,  as  the  expression  of  opinion,  in 
such  cases,   is  not   such  an  interference   as   would  justify  the 
Greeks  in  considering  the  powers  as  at  war  with  them.     For 
the  same  reason,  any  expression  which  we  may  make,  of  dif 
ferent  principles  and  different  sympathies,  is  no  interference. 
No  one  would  call  the  President's  Message   an  interference  ; 
and  yet  it  is  much  stronger,  in  that  respect,   than  this  resolu 
tion.     If  either  of  them  could  be   construed  to  be  an  inter 
ference,  no  doubt  it  would  be  improper,  at  least  it  would  be  so, 
according  to   my   view   of  the   subject :    for  the   very   thing 
which  1  have  attempted  to  resist  in  the  course  of  these  obser 
vations,  is  the  right  of  foreign  interference.      But  neither  the 
Message  nor  the  resolution  has  that  character.     There  is  not 
a  power  in  Europe  that  can  suppose,  that,   in  expressing  our 
opinions  on  this  occasion,  we  are  governed  by  any  desire  of 
aggrandizing  ourselves  or  of  injuring  others.     We  do  no  more 
than   to   maintain  those   established   principles,  in   which  we 
have  an  interest  in  common  with  other  nations,  and  to  resist 
the  introduction  of  new   principles   and  new  rules,  calculated 
to  destroy  the  relative  independence  of  states,  and  particular 
ly  hostile  to  the  whole  fabric  of  our  own  government. 

1  close,  then,  Sir,  with  repeating,  that  the  object  of  this 
resolution  is,  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  interesting  occasion  of 
the  Greek  revolution,  to  make  our  protest  against  the  doctrines 
of  the  Allied  Powers ;  both  as  they  are  laid  down  in  principle, 
and  as  they  are  applied  in  practice. 

I  think  it  right  too,  Sir,  not  to  be  unseasonable  in  the  ex 
pression  of  our  regard,  and,  as  far  as  that  goes,  in  a  ministra 
tion  of  our  consolation,  to  a  long  oppressed  and  now  struggling 


39 

people.  I  am  not  of  those  who  would,  in  the  hour  of  utmost 
peril,  withhold  such  encouragement  as  might  be  properly  and 
lawfully  given,  and  when  the  crisis  should  be  past,  overwhelm 
the  rescued  sufferer  with  kindness  and  caresses.  The  Greeks 
address  the  civilized  world  with  a  pathos,  not  easy  to  be  resisted. 
They  invoke  our  favour  by  more  moving  considerations  than 
can  well  belong  to  the  condition  of  any  other  people.  They 
stretch  out  their  arms  to  the  Christian  communities  of  the 
earth,  beseeching  them,  by  a  generous  recollection  of  their 
ancestors,  by  the  consideration  of  their  own  desolated  and 
ruined  cities  and  villages,  by  their  wives  and  children,  sold 
into  an  accursed  slavery,  by  their  own  blood,  which  they 
seem  willing  to  pour  out  like  water,  by  the  common  faith,  and 
in  the  Name,  which  unites  all  Christians,  that  they  would  ex 
tend  to  them,  at  least  some  token  of  compassionate  regard. 


THE  END. 


SPEECH 


rrox 


T1XUVEHKD    IK    THY.    HOUST.    OF    HKPHT'.SKNTATIVKS    OF    TDE    rXITV.l)    STATES 


A  PR  II,   1824. 


WASHINGTON 

•'  ])   liV  GALES 
1894, 


MR.  CHAIRMAN:  I  will  avail  myself  of  the  present  occasion  to  make 
some  remarks  on  certain  principles  and  opinions  which  have  been  re 
cently  advanced,  and  on  those  considerations  which,  in  my  judgment, 
ought  to  govern  us  in  deciding  upon  the  several  and  respective  parts 
of  this  very  important  and  complex  measure.  I  can  truly  say  that 
this  is  a  painful  duty.  I  deeply  regret  the  necessity,  which  is  likely 
to  be  imposed  upon  me,  of  giving  a  general  affirmative  or  negative  vote 
on  the  whole  of  the  Bill.  I  cannot  but  think  this  mode  of  proceeding 
liable  to  great  objections.  It  exposes  both  those  who  support,  and 
those  who  oppose,  the  measure,  to  very  unjust  and  injurious  misap 
prehensions.  There  may  be  good  reasons  for  favoring  some  of  the  pro 
visions  of  the  Bill,  and  equally  strong  reasons  for  opposing  others; 
and  these  provisions  do  not  stand  to  each  other  in  the  relation  of  prin 
cipal  and  incident.  If  that  were  the  case,  those  who  are  in  favor  of 
the  principal  might  forego  their  opinions  upon  incidental  and  subordir 
nate  provisions.  But  the  Bill  proposes  enactments  entirely  distinct, 
and  different  from  one  another,  in  character  and  tendency.  Some  of 
its  clauses  are  intended  merely  for  revenue;  and,  of  those  which  regard 
the  protection  of  home  manufactures,  one  part  stands  upon  very  differ 
ent  grounds  from  those  of  other  parts.  So  that  probably  every  Gen 
tleman  who  may  ultimately  support  the  bill  will  vote  for  much  which 
his  judgment  does  not  approve;  and  those  who  oppose  it  will  oppose 
something  which  they  would  very  gladly  support. 

Being  entrusted  with  the  interests  of  a  District  highly  commercial, 
and  deeply  interested  in  manufactures  also,  I  wish  to  state  my  opi 
nions  on  the  present  measure;  not  as  on  a  whole,  for  it  has  no  entire 
and  homogeneous  character;  but  as  on  a  collection  of  different  enact 
ments,  some  of  which  meet  my  approbation,  and  some  of  which  do  not. 

And  allow  me,  sir,  in  the  first  place,  to  state  my  regret,  if  indeed  I 
ought  not  to  express  a  warmer  sentiment,  at  the  names,  or  designa 
tions,  which  Mr.  Speaker  has  seen  fit  to  adopt,  for  the  purpose  of  de 
scribing  the  advocates  and  the  opposers  of  the  present  Bill.  It  is  a 
question,  he  says,  between  the  friends  of  an  "  American  policy,"  and 
those  of  a  "  foreign  policy."  This,  sir,  is  an  assumption  which  I  take 
the  liberty  most  directly  to  deny.  Mr.  Speaker  certainly  intended 
nothing  invidious  or  derogatory  to  any  part  of  the  House  by  this  mode 
of  denominating  friends  and  enemies.  But  there  is  power  in  names-, 
and  this  manner  of  distinguishing  those  who  favor  and  those  who  op- 


pose  particular  measures,  may  lead  to  inferences  to  which  no  member 
of  the  House  can  submit.  It  may  imply  that  there  is  a  more  exclu 
sive  and  peculiar  regard  to  American  interests  in  one  class  of  opinions 
than  in  another.  Such  an  implication  is  to  be  resisted  and  repelled. 
Every  member  has  a  right  to  the  presumption,  that  he  pursues  what  he 
believes  to  be  the  interest  of  his  country,  with  as  sincere  a  zeal  as  any 
other  member.  I  claim  this  in  my  own  case;  and,  while  I  shall  not, 
for  any  purpose  of  description,  or  convenient  arrangement,  use  terms 
which  may  imply  any  disrespect  to  other  men's  opinions,  much  less 
any  imputations  of  other  men's  motives,  it  is  my  duty  to  take  care 
that  the  use  of  such  terms  by  others  be  not,  against  the  will  of  those 
who  adopt  them,  made  to  produce  a  false  impression.  Indeed,  sir,  it 
is  a  little  astonishing,  if  it  seemed  convenient  to  Mr.  Speaker,  for  the 
purposes  of  distinction,  to  make  use  of  the  terms  '*  American  policy,5' 
and  "  foreign  policy,"  that  he  should  not  have  applied  them  in  a  man 
ner  precisely  the  reverse  of  that  in  which  he  has  in  fact  used  them. 
If  names  are  thought  necessary,  it  would  be  well  enough,  one  would 
think,  that  the  name  should  be,  in  some  measure,  descriptive  of  the 
thing;  and  since  Mr.  Speaker  denominates  the  policy  which  he  re 
commends  "  a  new  policy  in  this  country;"  since  he  speaks  of  the  pre 
sent  measure  as  a  new  era  in  our  legislation;  since  he  professes  to  in 
vite  us  to  depart  from  our  accustomed  course,  to  instruct  ourselves  by 
the  wisdom  oi  others,  and  to  adopt  the  policy  of  the  most  distinguish 
ed  foreign  states,  one  is  a  little  curious  to  know  with  what  propriety 
of  speech  this  imitation  of  other  nations  is  denominated  an  "  Ameri 
can  policy,"  while,  on  the  contrary,  a  preference  for  our  own  esta 
blished  system,  as  it  now  actually  exists,  and  always  has  existed,  is 
called  a  ""foreign  policy."  This  favorite  American  policy  is  what 
America  has  never  tried;  and  this  odious  foreign  policy  is  what,  as 
we  are  told,  foreign  states  have  never  pursued.  Sir,  that  is  the  truest 
American  policy  which  shall  most  usefully  employ  American  capital, 
and  American  labor,  and  best  sustain  the  whole  population.  With 
me  it  is  a  fundamental  axiom,  it  is  interwoven  with  all  my  opinions, 
that  the  great  interests  of  the  country  are  united  and  inseparable; 
that  agriculture,  commerce,  and  manufactures,  will  prosper  together, 
or  languish  together;  and  that  all  legislation  is  dangerous  which  pro 
poses  to  benefit  one  of  these  without  looking  to  consequences  which 
may  fall  on  the  others. 

Passing  from  this,  sir,  I  am  bound  to  say  that  Mr.  Speaker  began 
his  able  and  impressive  speech  at  the  proper  point  of  inquiry;  I  mean 
the  present  state  and  condition  of  the  country;  although  I  am  so  unfor 
tunate,  or  rather  although  I  am  so  happy,  as  to  differ  from  him  very 
widely  in  regard  to  that  condition.  I  dissent  entirely  from  thejustice 
of  that  picture  of  distress  which  he  has  drawn.  I  have  not  seen  the 
reality,  and  know  not  where  it  exists.  Within  my  observation 
there  is  no  cause  for  so  gloomy  and  terrifying  a  representation.  In 
respect  to  the  New  Kn^iand  states,  with  the  condition  of  which  I  am, 
of  course,  most  acquainted,  the  present  appears  to  me  a  period  of 
very  general  prosperity.  Not,,  indeed,  a  time  for  great  profits  and 


sudden  acquisition;  not  a  day  of  extraordinary  activity  and  success 
ful  speculation.  There  is,  no  doubt,  a  considerable  depression  of 
prices,  and,  in  some  degree,  a  stagnation  of  business.  But  the  case 
presented  by  Mr.  Speaker  was  not  one  of  depression,  but  of  distress; 
of  universal,  pervading,  intense  distress,  limited  to  no  class,  and  to 
no  place.  We  are  represented  as  on  the  very  verge  and  brink  of 
national  ruin.  So  far  from  acquiescing  in  these  opinions,  I  believe 
there  has  been  no  period  in  which  the  general  prosperity  was  better 
secured,  or  rested  on  a  more  solid  foundation.  As  applicable  to  the 
Eastern  states,  I  put  this  remark  to  their  Representatives,  and  ask 
them  if  it  is  not  true.  "When  has  there  been  a  time  in  which  the 
means  of  living  have  been  more  accessible  and  more  abundant?  when 
labor  was  rewarded,  I  do  not  say  with  a  larger,  but  with  a  more  certain 
success?  Profits,  indeed,  are  low;  in  some  pursuits  of  life,  which  it  is 
not  proposed  to  benefit,  but  to  burden,  by  this  Bill,  very  low.  But  still  I 
am  unacquainted  with  any  proofs  of  extraordinary  distress.  What, 
indeed,  are  the  general  indications  of  the  state  of  the  country?  There  is 
no  famine  nor  pestilence  in  the  land,  nor  war,  nor  desolation.  There  is 
no  writhing  under  the  burthen  of  taxation.  The  means  of  subsistence 
are  abundant;  and  at  the  very  moment  when  the  miserable  condition 
of  the  country  is  asserted,  it  is  admitted  that  the  wages  of  labor  are 
high,  in  comparison  with  those  of  any  other  country.  A  country,  then, 
enjoying  a  profound  peace,  a  perfect  civil  liberty,  with  the  means 
of  subsistence  cheap  and  abundant,  with  the  reward  of  labor  sure, 
and  its  wages  higher  than  any  where  else,  cannot  be  represented  in 
gloom,  melancholy,  and  distress,  but  by  the  effort  of  extraordinary 
powers  of  tragedy. 

Even  if,  in  judging  of  this  question,  we  were  to  regard  only  those 
proofs  to  which  we  have  been  referred,  we  shall  probably  come  to  a 
conclusion  somewhat  different  from  that  which  has  been  drawn.  Our 
exports,  for  example,  although  certainly  less  than  in  some  years,  were 
not,  last  year,  so  much  below  an  average,  formed  upon  the  exports  of  a 
series  of  years,  and  putting  those  exports  at  a  fixed  value,  'as  might 
be  supposed.  The  exports  of  agricultural  products,  of  animals,  of  the 
products  of  the  forest,  of  the  sea,  together  with  gunpowder,  spirits, 
and  sundry  unenumerated  articles,  amounted,  in  the  several  years,  to 
the  following  sums,  viz. 

In  1790  827,716,152 

1804  33,842,316 

1807  38,465:854 

Coming  up,  now,  to  our  own  times,  and  taking  the  exports  of  the 
years  1821,  1822,  and  1823,  of  the  same  articles  and  products,  at  the 
same  prices,  they  stand  thus: 

In  1821  -  ~  -      845,643,175 

1822  48,782,295 

1823  55,863,491 
Mr.  Speaker  has  taken  the  very  extraordinary  year  of  1803,  and,. 

adding  to  the  exportation  of  that  year,  what  he  thinks  ought  to  have 


6 

been  a  just  augmentation,  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  our  popula 
tion,  he  swells  the  result  to  a  magnitude,  which,  when  compared  with 
our  actual  exports,  would  exhibit  a  great  deficiency.  But  is  there 
any  justice  in  this  mode  of  calculation?  In  the  first  place,  as  before 
observed,  the  year  1803  was  a  year  of  extraordinary  exportation.  By 
reference  to  the  accounts,  that  of  the  article  of  flour,  for  example, 
there  was  an  export  that  year  of  1,300,000  barrels;  but  the  very  next 
year  it  fell  to  800,000,  and  the  next  year  to  700,000.  In  the  next 
place,  there  never  was  any  reason  to  expect  that  the  increase  of  our 
exports  of  agricultural  products,  would  keep  pace  with  the  increase 
of  our  population.  That  would  be  against  all  experience.  It  is,  in 
deed,  most  desirable,  that  there  should  be  an  augmented  demand  for 
the  products  of  agriculture;  but,  nevertheless,  the  official  returns  of 
our  exports  do  not  show  that  absolute  want  of  all  foreign  market, 
which  has  been  so  strongly  stated. 

But  there  are  other  means  by  which  to  judge  of  the  general  condi 
tion  of  the  people.  The  quantity  of  the  means  of  subsistence  con 
sumed;  or,  to  make  use  of  a  phraseology  better  suited  to  the  condi 
tion  of  our  nwn  people,  the  quantity  of  the  comforts  of  life  enjoyed,  is 
one  of  those  means.  It  so  happens,  indeed,  that  it  is  not  so  easy  in 
this  country,  as  elsewhere,  to  ascertain  facts,  of  this  sort,  with  accu 
racy.  Where  most  of  the  articles  of  subsistence,  and  most  of  the 
comforts  of  life  are  taxed,  there  is,  of  course,  great  facility  in  ascer 
taining,  from  official  statements,  the  amount  of  consumption.  But, 
in  this  country,  most  fortunately,  the  Government  neither  knows, 
nor  is  concerned  to  know,  the  annual  consumption;  and  estimates  can 
only  be  formed  in  another  mode,  and  in  reference  only  to  a  few  arti 
cles.  Of  these  articles,  tea  is  one.  Its  use  is  not  quite  a  luxury, 
and  yet  is  something  above  the  absolute  necessaries  of  life.  Its  con 
sumption,  therefore,  will  be  diminished  in  times  of  adversity,  and 
augmented  in  times  of  prosperity.  By  deducting  the  annual  export 
from  the  annual  import,  and  taking  a  number  oi  years  together,  we 
may  arrive  at  a  probable  estimate  of  consumption.  The  average  of 
eleven  years,  from  1790,  to  1800,  inclusive,  will  be  found  to  be  two 
millions  and  a  half  of  pounds.  From  1801  to  1812,  inclusive,  three 
millions  seven  hundred  thousand;  and  the  average  of  the  last  three 
years,  to  wit:  1821, 1822,  and  1823,  five  millions  and  a  half.  Having 
made  a  just  allowance  for  the  increase  of  our  numbers,  we  shall  still 
find,  I  think,  from  these  statements,  that  there  is  no  distress  which 
has  limited  our  means  of  subsistence  and  enjoyment. 

In  forming  an  opinion  of  the  degree  of  general  prosperity,  we  may 
regard,  likewise,  the  progress  of  internal  improvements — the  invest 
ment  of  capital  in  roads,  bridges,  and  canals.  All  these  prove  a 
balance  of  income  over  expenditure;  they  arc  evidence  that  there  is  a 
surplus  of  profits,  which  the  present  generation  is  usefully  vesting  for 
the  benefit  of  the  next.  It  cannot  be  denied  that,  in  this  particular, 
the  progress  of  the  country  is  steady  and  rapid. 

We  may  look,  too,  to  the  expenses  of  education.  Arc  our  Colleges 
deserted?  Do  fathers  find  themselves  less  able  than  usual  to  educate 


their  children?  It  will  be  found,  I  imagine,  that  the  amount  paid  for 
the  purpose  of  education,  is  constantly  increasing,  and  that  the  schools 
and  colleges  were  never  more  full  than  at  the  present  moment.  I 
may  add  that  the  endowment  of  public  charities,  the  contributions  to 
objects  of  general  benevolence,  whether  foreign  or  domestic,  the  mu 
nificence  of  individuals  towards  whatever  promises  to  benefit  the 
community,  are  all  so  many  proofs  of  national  prosperity.  And, 
finally,  there  is  no  defalcation  of  revenue,  no  pressure  of  taxation. 

The  general  result,  therefore,  of  a  fair  examination  of  the  present 
condition  ot  things,  seems  to  me  to  be,  that  there  is  a  considerable 
depression  of  prices,  and  curtailment  of  profit;  and,  in  some  parts  of 
the  country,  it  must  be  admitted,  there  is  a  great  degree  of  pecuniary 
embarrassment,  arising  from  the  difficulty  of  paying  debts  which  were 
contracted  when  prices  were  high.  With  these  qualifications,  the 
general  state  of  the  country  may  be  said  to  be  prosperous;  and  these 
are  not  sufficient  to  give  to  the  whole  face  of  affairs  any  appearance  of 
general  distress. 

Supposing  the  evil,  then,  to  be  a  depression  of  prices,  and  a  partial 
pecuniary  pressure,  the  next  inquiry  is  into  the  causes  of  that  evil; 
and  it  appears  to  me  that  there  are  several — and,  in  this  respect,  I 
think,  too  much  has  been  imputed,  by  Mr.  Speaker,  to  the  single 
cause  of  the  diminution  of  exports.  Connected,  as  we  are,  with  all 
the  commercial  nations  of  the  world,  and  having  observed  great  chan 
ges  to  take  place  elsewhere,  we  should  consider  whether  the  causes 
of  those  changes  have  not  reached  us,  and  whether  we  are  not  suffer 
ing  by  the  operation  of  those  causes,  in  common  with  others.  Un 
doubtedly,  there  has  been  a  great  fall  in  the  price  of  all  commodities 
throughout  the  commercial  world,  in  consequence  of  the  restoration 
of  a  state  of  peace.  When  the  Allies  entered  France  in  1814,  prices 
rose  astonishingly  fast  and  very  high.  Colonial  produce,  for  instance, 
in  the  ports  of  this  country,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  sprung  up  suddenly 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  extreme.  A  new  and  vast  demand 
was  created  for  the  commodities  of  trade.  These  were  the  natural 
consequences  of  the  great  political  changes  which  then  took  place  in 
Europe. 

We  are  to  consider,  too,  that  our  own  war  created  new  demand, 
and  that  a  Government  expenditure  of  25.000,000,  or  30,000,000  a 
year,  had  the  usual  effect  of  enhancing  prices.  We  are  obliged  to 
add.  that  the  paper  issues  of  our  Banks  carried  the  same  effect  still 
further.  A  depreciated  currency  existed  in  a  great  part  of  the  coun 
try;  depreciated  to  such  an  extent  as  that,  at  one  time,  exchange  be 
tween  the  centre  and  the  north,  was  as  high  as  20  per  cent.  The 
Bank  of  the  United  States  was  instituted  to  correct  this  evil;  but,  for 
causes  which  it  is  not  necessary  now  to  enumerate,  it  did  not  for 
some  years,  bring  back  the  currency  of  the  country  to  a  sound  state. 
This  depreciation  of  the  circulating  currency,  was  so  much,  of  course, 
added  to  the  nominal  prices  of  commodities,  and  these  prices  thus 
unnaturally  high,  seemed,  to  those  who  looked  only  at  the  appearance, 
to  indicate  great  prosperity.  But  such  prosperity  is  more  specious 


than  real.  It  would  have  been  better,  probably,  as  the  shock  would 
have  been  less,  if  prices  had  fallen  sooner.  At  length,  however,  they 
fell;  and,  as  there  is  little  doubt  that  certain  events  in  Europe  had  an 
influence  in  determining  the  time  at  which  this  fall  should  take  place, 
I  will  advert  shortly  to  some  of  the  principal  of  those  events. 

In  May,  1819,  the  British  House  of  Commons  decided,  by  an 
unanimous  vote,  that  the  resumption  of  cash  payments  by  the  Bank 
of  England,  should  not  be  deferred  beyond  the  ensuing  February. 
The  restriction  had  been  continued  from  time  to  time,  and  from  year 
to  year,  Parliament  alv*ays  professing  to  look  to  the  restoration  of  a 
specie  currency,  whenever  it  should  be  found  practicable.  Having 
been,  in  July,  1818,  continued  to  July,  1819,  it  was  understood  that, 
in  the  interim,  the  important  question  of  the  time  at  which  cash  pay 
ments  should  be  resumed,  should  be  finally  settled.  In  the  latter 
part  of  the  year  '18,  the  circulation  of  the  Bank  had  been  greatly  re 
duced,  and  a  severe  scarcity  of  money  was  felt  in  the  London  market. 
Such  was  the  state  of  things  in  England.  On  the  continent,  other 
important  events  took  place.  The  French  Indemnity  Loan  had  been 
negotiated  in  the  summer  of  1818,  and  the  proportion  of  it  belonging 
to  Austria,  Russia,  and  Prussia,  had  been  sold.  This  created  ail 
unusual  demand  for  gold  and  silver  in  these  Eastern  States  of  Europe. 
It  has  been  stated,  that  the  amount  of  the  precious  metals  transmitted 
to  Austria  and  Russia  in  that  year,  was  at  least  twenty  millions 
sterling.  Other  large  sums  were  sent  to  Prussia  and  to  Denmark. 
The  effect  of  this  sudden  drain  of  specie,  felt  first  at  Paris,  was  com 
municated  to  Amsterdam  and  Hamburg,  and  all  other  commercial 
places  in  the  north  of  Europe. 

The  paper  system  of  England  had  certainly  communicated  an  artifi 
cial  value  to  property.  It  had  encouraged  speculation,  and  excited 
overtrading.  When  the  shock  therefore  came,  and  this  violent  pres 
sure  for  money  acted  at  the  same  moment  on  the  continent  and  in 
England,  inflated  and  unnatural  prices  could  be  kept  up  no  longer. 
A  reduction  took  place,  which  has  been  estimated  to  have  been  at  least 
equal  to  a  fall  of  30,  if  not  40  per  cent.  The  depression  was  univer 
sal;  and  the  change  was  felt  in  the  United  States  severely,  though  not 
equally  so  in  every  part  of  them.  There  are  those,  I  am  aware,  who 
maintain  that  the  events  to  which  I  have  alluded  did  not  cause  the 
great  fall  of  prices;  but  that  that  fall  was  natural  and  inevitable,  from 
the  previously  existing  state  of  things,  the  abundance  of  commodities, 
and  the  want  of  demand.  But  that  would  only  prove  that  the  effect 
was  produced  in  another  way,  rather  than  by  another  cause.  If  these 
great  and  sudden  calls  for  money  did  not  reduce  prices,  but  prices 
fell,  as  of  themselves,  to  their  natural  state,  still  the  result  is  the  same; 
for  we  perceive  that  after  these  new  calls  for  money,  prices  could  not 
be  kept  longer  at  their  unnatural  height. 

About  the  time  of  these  foreign  events,  our  own  bank  system  under 
went  a  change;  and  all  these  causes,  in  my  view  of  the  subject,  am- 
curred  to  produce  the  great  shock  which  took  place  in  our  commercial 
cities,  and  through  many  parts  of  the  country.  The  year  1819  wa'S 


a  year  of  numerous  failures,  and  very  considerable  distress,  and  would 
have  furnished  far  better  grounds  than  exist  at  present,  for  that  gloomy 
representation  of  our  condition  which  has  been  presented .  Mr.  Speak 
er  has  alluded  to  the  strong  inclination  which  exists,  or  has  existed,  in 
various  parts  of  the  country  to  issue  paper  money,  as  a  proof  of  great 
existing  difficulties.  I  regard  it  rather  as  a  very  productive  cause  of 
those  difficulties;  and  the  committee  will  not  fail  to  observe,  that  there 
is,  at  this  moment,  much  the  loudest  complaint  of  distress  pre 
cisely  where  there  has  been  the  greatest  attempt  to  relieve  it  by  sys 
terns  of  paper  credit.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  content,  prosperity, 
and  happiness,  are  most  observable  in  those  parts  of  the  country,  where 
there  has  been  the  least  endeavor  to  administer  relief  by  law.  In  truth, 
nothing  is  so  baneful,  so  utterly  ruinous  to  all  true  industry,  as  interfer 
ing  with  the  legal  value  of  money,  or  attempting  to  raise  artificial 
standards  to  supply  its  place.  Such  remedies  suit  well  the  spirit  of 
extravagant  speculation,  but  they  sap  the  very  foundation  of  all  honest 
acquisition.  By  weakening  the  security  of  property,  they  take  away 
all  motive  for  exertion.  Their  effect  is  to  transfer  property.  When 
ever  a  debt  is  allowed  to  be  paid  by  any  thing  less  valuable  than  the 
legal  currency  in  respect  to  which  it  was  contracted,  the  difference, 
between  the  value  of  the  paper  given  in  payment  and  the  legal  cur 
rency,  is  precisely  so  much  property  taken  from  one  man  and  given 
to  another,  by  legislative  enactment.  When  we  talk,  therefore,  ofpio- 
tecting  industry,  let  us  remember  that  the  first  measure  fer  that  end, 
is  to  secure  it  in  its  earnings;  to  assure  it  that  it  shall  receive  its  own. 
Before  we  invent  new  modes  of  raising  prices,  let  us  take  care  that 
existing  prices  are  not  rendered  wholly  unavailable,  by  making  them 
capable  of  being  paid  in  depreciated  paper.  I  regard,  sir,  this  issue 
of  irredeemable  paper  as  the  most  prominent  and  deplorable  cause  of 
whatever  pressure  still  exists  in  the  country;  and,  farther,  I  would  put 
the  question  to  the  members  of  this  committee,  whether  it  is  not  from 
that  part  of  the  people  who  have  tried  this  paper  system,  and  tried  it 
to  their  cost,  that  this  Bill  receives  the  most  earnest  support?  And  I 
cannot  forbear  to  ask,  further,  whether  this  support  does  not  proceed 
rather  from  a  general  feeling  of  uneasiness  under  the  present  condition 
of  things,  than  from  the  clear  perception  of  any  benefit  which  the  mea 
sure  itself  can  confer?  Is  not  all  expectation  of  advantage  centered  in 
a  sort  of  vague  hope,  that  change  may  produce  relief?  Debt  certainly 
presses  hardest,  where  prices  have  been  longest  kept  up  by  artificial 
means.  They  find  the  shock  lightest,  who  take  it  soonest;  and  I 
fully  believe  that,  if  those  parts  of  the  country  which  now  suffer  most, 
had  not  augmented  the  force  of  the  blow  by  deferring  it,  they  would 
have  now  been  in  a  much  better  condition  than  they  are.  We  may 
assure  ourselves,  once  for  all,  sir,  that  there  can  be  no  such  thing  a*9 
payment  of  debts  by  legislation.  We  may  abolish  debts  indeed;  we  may 
transfer  property,  by  visionary  and  violent  laws.  But  we  deceive  botli 
ourselves  and  our  constituents,  if  we  flatter,  either  ourselves  or  them, 
with  the  hope  that  th<;re  is  any  relief  against  whatever  pressure  exists, 
butin  economy  and  industry. 'The  depression  of  prices  and  the  stagna- 


10 

tion  of  business,  have  been  in  truth  the  necessary  result  of  circum 
stances.  No  government  could  prevent  them,  and  no  government  can. 
altogether  relieve  the  people  from  their  effect.  We  had  enjoyed  a 
day  of  extraordinary  prosperity;  we  had  been  neutral  while  the  world 
was  at  war,  and  hail  found  a  great  demand  for  our  products,  our  navi 
gation,  and  our  labor.  We  had  no  right  to  expect  that  that  state  of 
things  would  continue  always.  With  the  return  of  peace,  foreign  na 
tions  would  struggle  for  themselves,  and  enter  into  competition  with 
us  in  the  great  objects  of  pursuit. 

Now,  sir,  what  is  the  remedy  for  existing  evils?  what  is  the  course 
of  policy  suited  to  our  actual  condition?  Certainly  it  is  not  our  wis 
dom  to  adopt  any  system  that  may  be  offered  to  us  without  examina 
tion,  and  in  the  blind  hope  that  whatever  changes  our  condition  may 
improve  it.  It  is  better  that  we  should 

"Bear  those  ills  We  have, 

*'  Than  fly  to  others  that  we  know  not  of." 

We  are  bound  to  see  that  there  is  a  fitness  and  an  aptitude  in  what 
ever  measures  may  be  recommended  to  relieve  the  evils  that  afflict  us; 
and  before  we  adopt  a  system  that  professes  to  make  great  alterations, 
it  is  our  duty  to  look  carefully  to  each  leading  interest  of  the  commu 
nity,  and  see  how  it  may  probably  be  affected  by  our  proposed  legisla 
tion. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  what  is  the  condition  of  our  commerce?  Here 
we  must  clearly  perceive,  that  it  is  not  enjoying  that  rich  harvest 
\vhich  fell  to  its  fortune  during  the  continuance  of  the  European  wars. 
It  has  been  greatly  depressed,  and  limited  to  small  profits.  Still,  it  is 
elastic  and  active,  and  seems  capable  of  recovering  itself  in  some 
measure  from  its  depression.  The  shipping  interest,  also,  has  suffered 
severely,  still  more  severely,  probably,  than  commerce.  If  any  thing 
should  strike  us  with  astonishment,  it  is  that  the  navigation  of  the 
United  States  should  be  able  to  sutain  itself.  Without  any  govern 
ment  protection  whatever,  it  goes  abroad  to  challenge  competition, 
with  the  whole  world;  and,  in  spite  of  all  obstacles,  it  has  yet  been 
able  to  maintain  800,000  tons  in  the  employment  of  foreign  trade. 
How,  sir,  do  the  ship  owners  and  navigators  accomplish  this?  How 
is  it  that  they  are  able  to  meet,  and  in  some  measure  overcome,  univer 
sal  competition?  Not,  sir,  by  protection  and  bounties;  but  by  un 
wearied  exertion,  by  extreme  economy,  by  unshaken  perseverance, 
by  that  manly  and  resolute  spirit  which  relies  on  itself  to  protect  it 
self.  These  causes  alone  enable  American  ships  still  to  keep  their 
element,  arid  shew  the  flag  of  their  country  in  distant  seas.  The 
rates  of  insurance  may  teach  us  how  thoroughly  our  ships  are  built, 
and  how  skilfully  and  safely  they  are  navigated.  Risks  are  taken,  as 
I  learn,  from  the  United  States  to  Liverpool,  at  1  percent.;  and  from 
the  United  States  to  Canton  and  back,  as  low  as  3  per  cent.  But 
when  we  look  to  the  low  rate  of  freight,  and  when  we  consider,  also, 
that  the  articles  entering  into  the  composition  of  aship,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  wood,  are  dearer  here  than  in  other  countries,  we  cannot  but 
be  utterly  surprised,  that  the  shipping  interest  has  been  able  to  sustain 


V 

11 


itself  at  all.  I  need  not  say  that  the  navigation  of  the  country  is 
essential  to  its  honor,  and  its  defence.  Yet,  instead  of  proposing 
benefit  for  it  in  this  hour  of  its  depression,  we  propose  by  this  measure 
to  lay  upon  it  new  and  heavy  burthens.  In  the  discussion,  the  other 
day,  of  that  provision  of  the  bill  which  proposes  to  tax  tallow  for  the 
benefit  of  the  oil  merchants  and  whalemen,  we  had  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  eloquent  eulogiums  upon  that  portion  of  our  shipping  employed 
in  the  whale  fishery,  and  strong  statements  of  its  importance  to  the 
public  interest.  But  the  same  Bill  proposes  a  severe  tax  upon  that 
interest,  for  the  benefit  of  the  iron  manufacturer  and  the  hemp  grower. 
So  that  the  tallow  chandlers  and  soap  boilers  are  sacrificed  to  the  oil 
merchants,  in  order  that  these  again  may  contribute  to  the  manufac 
turers  of  iron  and  the  growers  of  hemp. 

If  such  be  the  state  of  our  commerce  and  navigation,  what  is  the 
condition  of  our  home  manufactures?  How  are  they  amidst  the  gene 
ral  depression?  Do  they  need  further  protection?  and  if  any,  how 
much?  On  all  these  points,  we  have  had  much  general  statement,  but 
little  precise  information.  In  the  very  elaborate  speech  of  Mr. 
Speaker,  we  are  not  supplied  with  satisfactory  grounds  of  judging  in 
these  various  particulars.  Who  can  tell,  from  any  thing  yet  before 
the  Committee,  whether  the  proposed  duty  be  too  high  or  too  low, 
on  any  one  article?  Gentleman  tell  us,  that  they  are  in  favor  of  do 
mestic  industry;  so  am  I.  They  would  give  it  protection:  so  would 
I.  But  then  all  domestic  industry  is  not  confined  to  manufactures. 
The  employments  of  agriculture,  commerce,  and  navigation,  are  all 
branches  of  the  same  domestic  industry;  they  all  furnish  employment 
for  American  capital,  and  American  labor.  And  when  the  question 
is,  whether  new  duties  shall  be  laid,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  further 
encouragement  to  particular  manufactures,  every  reasonable  man 
must  ask  himself,  both,  whether  the  proposed  new  encouragement  be 
necessary,  and,  whether  it  can  be  given  without  injustice  to  other 
branches  of  industry. 

Itisdesirable  to  know,  also,  somewhat  more  distinctly,  how  the  pro 
posed  means  will  produce  the  intended  effect.  One  great  object  pro 
posed,  for  example,  is,  the  increase  of  the  home  market  for  the  con 
sumption  of  agricultural  products.  This  certainly  is  much  to  be  de 
sired;  but  what  provisions  of  the  Bill  are  expected  wholly,  or  princi 
pally  to  produce  this,  is  not  stated.  I  would  not  suggest  that  some, 
increase  of  the  home  market  may  not  follow,  from  the  adoption  of 
this  Bill,  but  all  its  provisions  have  not  an  equal  tendency  to  produce 
this  effect.  Those  manufactures  which  employ  most  labor,  create  of 
course,  most  demand  for  articles  of  consumption;  and  those  create 
least,  in  the  production  of  which  capital  and  skill  enter  as  the  chief 
ingredients  of  cost.  I  cannot,  sir,  take  this  Bill,  merely  because  a 
Committee  has  recommended  it.  I  cannot  espouse  a  side,  and  fight 
under  a  flag.  I  wholly  repel  the  idea,  that  \\e  must  take  this  law,  or 
pass  no  law  on  the  subject.  What  should  hinder  us  from  exercising 
our  own  judgments  upon  these  provisions,  singly  and  severally?  Who 
has  the  power  to  place  us,  or  why  should  we  place  ourselves,  in  a 


12 

condition  where  we  cannot  give  to  every  measure,  that  is  distinct  and 
separate  in  itself,  a  separate  and  distinct  consideration?  Sir,  I  pre 
sume  no  member  of  the  Committee  will  withhold  his  assent  from  what 
he  thinks  right,  until  others  will  yield  their  assent  to  what  they  think 
wrong.  There  are  many  things  in  this  Bill,  acceptable  probably  to 
the  general  sense  of  the  House.  Why  should  not  these  provisions  be 
passed  into  a  law,  and  others  left  to  be  decided  upon  their  own  me 
rits,  as  a  majority  of  the  House  shall  see  fit?  To  some  of  these 
provisions,  I  am  myself  decidedly  favorable;  to  others,  I  have  great 
objections;  and  I  should  have  been  very  glad  of  an  opportunity  of 
giving  my  own  vote  distinctly  on  propositions,  which  are,  in  their 
own  nature,  essentially  and  substantially  distinct  from  one  another. 

But,  sir,  before  expressing  rny  own  opinion  upon  the  several  pro 
visions  of  this  Bill,  I  will  advert  for  a  moment  to  some  other  general 
topics.  We  have  heard  much  of  the  policy  of  England,  and  her  ex 
ample  has  been  repeatedly  urged  upon  us,  as  proving,  not  only  the 
expediency  of  encouragement  and  protection,  but  of  exclusion  and  di 
rect  prohibition  also.  I  took  occasion  the  other  day  to  remark,  that 
more  liberal  notions  were  growing  prevalent  on  this  subject;  that  the 
policy  of  restraints  and  prohibitions  was  getting  out  of  repute,  as  the 
true  nature  of  commerce  became  better  understood;  and  that,  among 
public  men,  those  most  distinguished,  were  most  decided  in  their  re 
probation  of  the  broad  principle  of  exclusion  and  prohibition.  Upon 
the  truth  of  this  representation,  as  matter  of  fact,  I  supposed  there 
could  not  be  two  opinions  among  those  who  had  observed  the  progress 
of  political  sentiment  in  other  countries,  and  were  acquainted  with 
its  present  state.  In  this  respect,  however,  it  would  seem,  that  I  was. 
greatly  mistaken.  We  have  heard  it  again  and  again  declared,  that 
the  English  Government  still  adheres,  with  immovable  firmness,  to  its 
old  doctrines  of  prohibition;  that  although  journalists,  theorists,  and 
scientific  writers,  advance  other  doctrines,  yet  the  practical  men, 
the  legislators,  the  government  of  the  country,  are  too  wise  to  follow 
them.  It  has  even  been  most  sagaciously  hinted,  that  the  promulga 
tion  of  liberal  opinions  on  these  subjects,  is  intended  only  for  a 
delusion  upon  other  nations,  to  cajole  them  into  the  folly  of  liberal 
ideas,  while  England  retains  to  herself  all  the  benefits  of  the  admira 
ble  old  system  of  prohibition.  We  have  heard  from  Mr.  Speaker  a 
warm  commendation  of  the  complex  mechanism  of  this  system. 
The  British  Empire,  it  is  said,  is,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  protected 
against  the  rest  of  the  world;  then  the  British  isles  against  the  colo 
nies;  next,  the  isles  respectively  against  each  other — England  her 
self,  as  the  heart  of  the  empire,  bein^  protected  most  of  all,  and 
against  all. 

Truly,  sir,  it  appears  to  me,  that  Mr.  Speaker's  imagination  has 
seen  system,  and  order,  and  beauty,  in  that,  which  is  much  more  just 
ly  considered  as  the  result  of  ignorance,  partiality,  or  violence.  This 
part  of  English  legislation  has  resulted,  partly  from  considering  Ire 
land  as  a  conquered  country,  partly  from  the  want  of  a  complete 
union,  even  with  Scotland,  and  partly  from  the  narrow  views  of  colo- 


13 

nial  regulation,  which  in  early  and  uninformed  periods,  influenced  the 
European  states. 

And,  sir,  I  imagine,  nothing  would  strike  the  public  men  of  Eng 
land  more  singularly,  than  te  find  gentlemen  of  real  information,  and 
much  weight,  in  the  councils  of  this  country,  expressing  sentiments 
like  these,  in  regard  to  the  existing  state  of  these  English  laws.    I 
have  never  said,  indeed,  that  prohibitory  laws  did  not  exist  in  Eng 
land;  we  all  know  they  do;  but  the  question  is,  does  she  owe  her 
prosperity  and  greatness  to  these  laws?  I  venture  to  say,  that  such  is 
not  the  opinion  of  the  public  men  now  in  England,  and  the  continu 
ance  of  the  laws,  even  without  any  alteration,  would  not  be  evidence 
that  their  opinion  is  different  from  what  I  have  represented  it;  be 
cause  the  laws  having  existed  long,  and  great  interests  having  been 
built  up  on  the  faith  of  them,  they  cannot  now  be  repealed,  without 
great  and  overwhelming  inconvenience.     Because  a  thing  has  been 
wrongly  done,  it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  it  can  now  be  un 
done;  and  this  is  the  reason,  as  I  understand  it,  upon  which  exclu 
sion,  prohibition,  and  monopoly,  are  suffered  to  remain  in  any  degree 
in  the  English  system;  and  for  the  same  reason,  it  will  be  wise  in  us 
to  take  our  measures,  on  all  subjects  of  this  kind,  with  great  caution. 
We  may  not  be  able,  but  at  the  hazard  of  much  injury  to  individuals, 
hereafter  to  retrace  our  steps.     And  yet,  whatever  is  extravagant, 
or  unreasonable,  is  not  likely  to  endure.     There  may  come  a  moment, 
of  strong  re-action;  and  if  no  moderation  be  shewn  in  laying  on  du 
ties,  there  may  be  little  scruple  in  taking  them  off.     It  may  here  be 
observed,  that  there  is  a  broad  and  marked  distinction  between  entire 
prohibition,  and  reasonable  encouragement.     It  is  one  thing  by  du 
ties  or  taxes  on  foreign  articles,  to  awaken  a  home  competition   in 
the  production  of  the  same  articles;  it  is  another  thing  to  remove  all 
competition  by  a  total  exclusion  of  the  foreign  article;  and  it  is  quite 
another  thing  still,  by  total  prohibition,  to  raise  at  home,  manufactures 
not  suited  to  the  climate,  the  nature  of  the  country,  or  the  state  of 
the  population.     These  are  substantial  distinctions,  and  although  it 
may  not  be  easy  in  every  case,  to  determine  which  of  them  applies  to 
a  given  article,   yet,  the  distinctions  themselves  exist,  and   in  most 
cases,  will  be  sufficiently  clear  to  indicate  the  true  course  of  policy; 
and,  unless  I  have  greatly  mistaken  the  prevailing  sentiment  in  the 
councils  of  England,  it  grows  every  day  more  and  more  favorable  to  the 
diminution  of  restrictions,  and  to  the  wisdom  of  leaving  much  (I  do 
not  say  every  thing,  for  that  would  not  be  true)  to  the  enterprize  and 
the  discretion  of  individuals.     I  should  certainly  not  have  taken  up 
the  time  of  the  Committee  to  state  at  any  length  the  opinions  of  other 
governments,  or  of  the  public  men  of  other  countries,  upon  a  subject 
like  this;  but  an  occasional  remark  made  by  me  the  other  dav,  having 
been  so  directly  controverted,  especially  by  Mr.  Speaker,  in  his  obser 
vations  yesterday,  I  must  take  occasion  to  refer  to  some  proofs  of 
what  I  have  stated. 

What,  then,  is  the  state  of  English  opinion?  Every  body  knows  that, 
after  the  termination  of  the  late  European  war,  there  came  a  time  of 


14 

great  pressure  in  England.  Since  her  example  has  been  quoted,  letitbfe 
asked  in  what  mode  her  government  sought  relief.     Did  it  aim  to 
maintain  artificial  and  unnatural  prices?     Did  it  maintain  a  swollen 
and  extravagant  paper  circulation?    Did  it  carry  further  the  laws  of 
prohibition  and  exclusion?     Did  it  draw  closer  the  cords  of  colonial 
restraint?    No,  Sir,  but  precisely  the  reverse.    Instead  of  relying  on 
legislative  contrivances  and  artificial  devices,  it  trusted  to  the  enter 
prise  and  industry  of  the  people;  which  it  sedulously  sought  to  ex 
cite,  not  by  imposing  restraint,  but  by  removing  it,  wherever  its  re 
moval  was  practicable.     In  May,  1820,  the  attention  of  the  govern 
ment  having  been  much  turned  to  the  state  of  foreign  trade,  a  distin 
guished  member*  of  the  House  of  Peers  brought  forward  a   parlia 
mentary  motion  upon  that  subject,  followed  by  an  ample  discussion, 
and  a  full  statement  of  his  own  opinions.     In  the  course  of  his  re 
marks,  he  observed,   "  That  there  ought  to  be  no  prohibitory  duties, 
"as  such;  for  that  it  was  evident,  that  where  a  manufacture  could  not 
ts  be  carried  on,  or  a  production  raised,  but  under  the  protection  of  a 
6t  prohibitory  duty,  that  manufacture,   or   that  produce,  could    not 
"  be  brought  to  market  but  at  a  loss.     In   his  opinion,  the  name  of 
"  strict  prohibition  might,  therefore,  in  commerce,  be  got  rid  of  alto 
gether;  but  he  did  not  seethe  same  objection  to  protecting  duties, 
'*  which,  while  they  admitted  of  the  introduction  of  commodities  from 
"abroad  similar  to  those  which  we  ourselves  manufactured,  placed 
"  them  so  much  on  a  level,  as  to  allow  a  competition  between  them." 
"No  axiom,"  he  added,  "  was  more  true  than  this:  that  it  was  by 
"growing  what  the  territory  of  a  country  could  grow  most  cheaply, 
"  and  by  receiving  from  other  countries  what  it  could  not  produce  ex- 
fi  cept  at  too  great  an  expense,  that  the  greatest  degree  of  happiness 
"  was  to  be  communicated  to  the  greatest  extent  of  population."     In 
assenting  to  the  motion,  the  first  Minister!  of  the  Crown  expressed 
his  own  opinion  of  the  great  advantage  resulting  from  unrestricted 
freedom  of  trade.    "  Of  the  soundness  of  that  general  principle,"  he 
observed,   "  I  can  entertain  no  doubt.     I  can  entertain  no  doubt   of 
"  what  would  have  been  the  great  advantages  to  the  civilized  world, 
"  if  the  system  of  unrestricted  trade  had  been  acted  upon  by  every 
*'  nation,  from  the  earliest  period  of  its  commercial  intercourse  with  its 
•*  neighbors.  If  to  those  ad  vantages  there  could  have  been  any  exceptions, 
c<  I  am  persuaded  that  they  would  have  been  but  few;  and  I  am  also 
"  persuaded    that    the  cases,  to   which   they  would  have    referred, 
'*  would  not  have  been,  in  themselves,  connected  with  the  trade  and 
"  commerce  of  England.     But  we  are  now  in  a  situation  in  which, 
"  I  will  not  say  that  a  reference  to  the  principle  of  unrestricted  trade 
'•'  can  be  of  no  use,  because  such  a  reference  may  correct  erroneous 
"  reasoning — but  in  which  it  is  impossible  for  us,  or  for  any  country 
"  in  the  world,  but  the  United  States  of  America,  to  act  unreservedly 
"on  that  principle.     The  commercial  regulations  of  the  European 

*  Lord  Lansdowne.        f  Lord  Liverpool. 


15 

"  world  have  been  long  established,  and  cannot  suddenly  be  departed 
**  from."     Having  supposed  a  proposition  to  be  made  to  England,  by 
a  foreign  state,  for  free  commerce  and  intercourse,  and  an  unrestricted 
exchange  of  agricultural  products,  and  of  manufactures,  he  proceeds 
to  observe:  "  It  would  be  impossible  to  accede  to  such  a  proposition. 
'  We  have  risen  to  our  present  greatness  under  a  different  system. 
"  Some  suppose  that  we  have  risen  in  consequence  of  that  system; 
"  others,  of  ivhom  I  am  one,  believe  that  ire  havt  risen  in  srn-E  OF 
"THAT  SYSTEM.     But,  whichever  of  these  hypotheses  be  true,  certain 
"  it  is,  that  we  have  risen  under  a  very  different  system  than  that  of 
ki  free  and  unrestricted  trade.    It  is  utterly  impossible,  with  our  debt 
"  and  taxation,  even  if  they  were  but  half  their  existing  amount,  that 
"  we  can  suddenly  adopt  the  system  of  free  trade/'     Lord  Ellenbo- 
rough,  in  the  same  debate,  said,  "That  he  attributed  the  general  dis- 
"  tress  then  existing  in  Europe,  to  the  regulations  that  had  taken. 
"  place  since  the  destruction  of  the  French  power.     Most  of  the 
"states  on  the  continent  had  surrounded  themselves  as  with  walls  of 
"  brass,  to  inhibit    intercourse  with  other  states.     Intercourse  was 
{  prohibited,  even  in  districts  of  the  same  state,  as  was  the  case  in 
'Austria  and  Sardinia.    Thus,  though  the  taxes  on  the  people  had 
'  been  lightened,  the  severity  of  their  condition  had  been  increased. 
'  He  believed  that  the  discontent  which  pervaded  most  parts  of  Eu~ 
'rope,  and  especially  Germany,  was  more  owing  to  commercial  re- 
'  strictions,   than  to  any  theoretical  doctrines  on  government;  and 
4  that  a  free  communication  among  them  would   do  more  to  restore 
'  tranquillity,  than  any  other  step  that  could  be  adopted.  He  object- 
*  ed  to  all  attempts  to  frustrate  the  benevolent  intentions  of  Provi- 
'  deuce,  which  had  given  to  various  countries  various  wants,  in  order 
;  to  bring  them  together.     He  objected  to  it  as  antisocial;  he  object- 
'  ed  to  it,  as  making  commerce  the  means  of  barbarising,  instead  of 
'  enlightening  nations.     The  state  of  the  trade  with  France  was  the 
'  most  disgraceful  to  both  countries;  the  two  greatest  civilized  na- 
'  tions  of  the  world,  placed  at  a  distance  of  scarcely  tweiity  miles 
'  from  each  other,  had  contrived,  by  their  artificial  regulations,  to  rc- 
'  duce  their  commerce  with  each  other  to  a  mere  nullity."     Every 
member,  speaking  on  this  occasion,  agreed  in  the  general  sentiments 
favorable  to  unrestricted  intercourse,  which  had  thus  been  advanced; 
one  of  them  remarking,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  debate,  that  ''the. 
"principles  of  free  trade,  which  he  was  happy  to  see  so  fully  recog- 
'•  nized,  were  of  the  utmost  consequence;  for,  though,  in  the  present 
"  circumstances  of  the  country,  a  free  trade  was  unattainable,  yet 
"  their  task  hereafter  was  to  approximate  to  it.  Considering  the  pre 
judices  and  interests  which  were  opposed  to  the  recognition  of  that 
"  principle,  it  was  no  small  indication  of  the  firmness  and  liberality 
"  of  government,  to  have  so  fully  conceded  it." 

Sir,  we  have  seen,  in  the  course  of  this  discussion,  that  several  gen 
tlemen  have  expressed  their  high  admiration  of  the  silk  manufacture 
of  England.  Its  commendation  was  begun,  I  think,  by  the  honorable 
member  from  Vermont,  who  sits  near  me,  who  thinks  that  that  alone 


16 

gives  conclusive  evidence  of  the  benefits  produced  by  attention  to 
manufactures,  inasmuch  as  it  is  a  great  source  of  wealth  to  the  na 
tion,  and  has  amply  repaid  all  the  cost  of  its  protection.  Mr.  Speak 
er's  approbation  of  this  part  of  the  English  example,  was  still  warmer. 
Now,  Sir,  it  does  so  happen,  that  both  these  gentlemen  differ  very 
widely  on  this  point,  from  the  opinions  entertained  in  England,  by 
persons  of  the  first  rank,  both  of  knowledge  and  of  power.  In  the 
debate  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  the  proposer  of  the  motion 
urged  the  expediency  of  providing  for  the  admission  of  the  silks  of 
France  into  England.  "  He  was  aware,"  he  said,  "  that  there  was 
"  a  poor  and  industrious  body  of  manufacturers,  whose  interests  must 
"  suffer  by  such  an  arrangement;  and  therefore  he  felt  that  it  would 
"  be  the  duty  of  Parliament  to  provide  for  the  present  generation,  by 
"  a  large  parliamentary  grant.  It  was  conformable  to  every  princi- 
"  pie  of  sound  justice  to  do  so,  when  the  interests  of  a  particular 
"  class  were  sacrificed  to  the  good  of  the  whole."  In  answer  to  these  ob 
servations,  Lord  Liverpool  said  that,  with  reference  to  several  branches 
of  manufactures,  time,  and  the  change  of  circumstances,  had  rendered 
the  system  of  protecting  duties  merely  nominal:  and  that,  in  his  opi 
nion,  if  all  the  protecting  laws  which  regarded  both  the  woollen  and 
cotton  manufactures,  were  to  be  repealed,  no  injurious  effects  would 
thereby  be  occasioned.  "  But,"  he  observes,  "  with  respect  to  silk, 
"  that  manufacture  in  this  kingdom  is  so  completely  artificial,  that 
"  any  attempt  to  introduce  the  principles  of  free  trade  with  refer- 
"  ence  to  it,  might  put  an  end  to  it  altogether.  I  allow  that  the  silk 
*'  manufacture  is  not  natural  to  this  country.  1 ivish  ice  had  never 
"  had  a  silk  manufactory.  I  allow  that  it  is  natural  to  France;  I  al- 
"  low,  that  it  might  have  been  better,  had  each  country  adhered  ex- 
"  clusively  to  that  manufacture,  in  which  each  is  superior;  and  had 
*'  the  silks  of  France  been  exchanged  for  British  cottons.  But  I 
"  must  look  at  things  as  they  are;  and  when  I  consider  the  extent 
"  of  capital,  and  the  immense  population,  consisting,  I  believe,  of 
"  about  50,000  persons  engaged  in  our  silk  manufacture,  I  can  only 
"  say,  that  one  of  the  few  points  in  which  I  totally  disagree  with  the 
"  proposer  of  the  motion,  is  the  expediency,  under  existing  circum- 
*'  stances,  of  holding  out  any  idea,  that  it  would  be  possible  to  relin- 
quish  the  silk  manufacture,  and  to  provide  for  those  who  live  by  it, 
by  parliamentary  enactment.  Whatever  objections  there  may  be 
to  the  continuance  of  the  protecting  system,  I  repeat,  that  it  is  im- 
possible  altogether  to  relinquish  it.  I  may  regret  that  the  system 
was  ever  commenced;  but  as  I  cannot  recal  that  act,  I  must  sub- 
mit  to  the  inconvenience  by  which  it  is  attended,  rather  than  ex- 
"  pose  the  country  to  evils  of  greater  magnitude."  Let  it  be  re 
membered,  sir,  that  these  are  not  the  sentiments  of  a  theorist,  nor 
the  fancies  of  speculation;  but  the  operative  opinions  of  the  first  mi 
nister  of  England,  acknowledged  to  be  one  of  the  ablest  and  most 
practical  statesmen  of  his  country.  Sir,  gentlemen  could  have  hardly 
been  more  unfortunate  than  in  the  selection  of  the  silk  manufacture 
in  England,  as  an  example  of  the  beneficial  effects  of  that  system 


17 

which  they  would  recommend.    It  is,  in  the  language  which  I  have- 
quoted,  completely  artificial.     It  has  been   sustained  by  1  know  not 
how  many  laws,  breaking  in   upon  the  plainest  principles  of  general 
expediency.     At  the  last  session  of  Parliament,  the  manufacturers 
petitioned  for  the  repeal  of  three  or  four  of  these  statutes,  complain- 
ing  of  the  vexatious  restrictions  which  they  impose  on  the  wages  of 
labor;  setting  forth,  that  a  great  variety  of  orders  has  from  time  to 
time  been  issued  by  magistrates  under  the  authority  of  these  laws, 
interfering,  in  an  oppressive  manner,  with  the  minutest  details  of  the 
manufacture:  such  as  limiting  the  number  of  threads  to  an  inch;  re 
stricting  the  widths  of  many  sorts  of  work;  and  determining  the 
quantity  of  labor  not  to  be  exceeded  without  extra  wages:  that  by 
the  operation  of  these  laws,  the  rate  of  wages,  instead  of  being  left 
to  the  recognized  principles  of  regulation,  has  been  arbitrarily  fixed 
by  persons  whose  ignorance  renders  them  incompetent  to  a  just  de 
cision;  that  masters  are  compelled  by  law  to   pay  an  equal  price  for 
all  work,  whether  well  or  ill  performed;  and   that  they  are  totally 
prevented  the  use  of  improved  machinery,  it  being  ordered,  that  work, 
in  the  weaving  of  which  machinery  is  employed,  shall  be  paid  pre 
cisely  at  the  same  rate  as  if  done  by  hand;  that  these  acts  have  fre 
quently  given  rise  to  the  most  vexatious  regulations,  the  uninten 
tional  breach  of  which  has  subjected  manufacturers  to  ruinous  penal 
ties;  and  that,  the  introduction  of  all  machinery  being  prevented,  by 
which  labor  might  be  cheapened,  and   the  manufacturers  being  com 
pelled  to  pay  at  a  fixed  price,  under  all  circumstances,  they  are  pre 
vented  from  affording  employment  to  their  workmen,  in  times  of  stag 
nation  of  trade,  but  are  compelled  to  stop  their  looms.     And  finally, 
they  complain,  that,  notwithstanding  these  grievances  under  which 
they  labor,  while  carrying  on  their  manufacture  in   London,  the  law 
still  prohibits  them,  while  they  continue  to  reside  there,  from  employ 
ing  any  portion  of  their  capital  in  the  same  business  in  any  other  part 
of  the  kingdom,  where  it  might  be  more  beneficially  conducted. — 
Now,  sir,  absurd  as  these  laws  must  appear  to  be  to  every  man,  the 
attempt  to  repeal  them  did  not,  as  far  as  I  recollect,  altogether  suc 
ceed.     The  weavers  were  too  numerous,  their  interests  too  great,  or 
their  prejudices  too  strong;  and  this  notable  instance  of  protection 
and  monopoly  still  exists,  to  be  lamented  in  England,  with  as  much 
sincerity  as  it  seems  to  be  admired  here. 

In  order  further  to  shew  the  prevailing  sentiment  of  the  English 
government,  I  would  refer  to  a  report  of  a  select  committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons,  at  the  head  of  which  was  the  vice  president  of 
the  board  of  trade,  (Mr.  Wallace)  in  July,  1820.  "  The  time/'  say 
that  committee,  "  when  monopolies  could  be  successfully  supported, 
"  or  would  be  patiently  endured,  either  in  respect  to  subjects  against 
"  subjects,  or  particular  countries  against  the  rest  of  the  world, 
fc4  seems  to  have  passed  away.  Commerce,  to  continue  undisturbed 
"  and  secure,  must  be,  as  it  was  intended  to  be,  a  source  of  reeipro- 
*'  cal  amity  between  nations,  and  an  interchange  of  productions,  to 
"  promote  the  industry,  the  wealth,  and  the  happiness,  of  mankind.*1 


18 

In  moving  for  the  re- appointment  of  the  committee,  in  February,  1823, 
the  same  gentleman  said;  "  We  must  also  get  rid  of  that  feeling  of 
appropriation,  which  exhibited   itself  in  a  disposition  to  produce 
every  thing  necessary  for  our  own  consumption,  and  to  render  our 
selves  independent  of  the  world.     No  notion  could  be  more  absurd 
or  mischievous;  it  led,  even  in  peace,  to  an  animosity  and  rancour, 
greater  than  existed  in  time  of  war.     Undoubtedly  there  would  be 
great  prejudices  to  combat,  both  in  this  country  and  elsewhere,  in 
the  attempt  to  remove  the  difficulties  which  are  most  obnoxious. 
It  would  be  impossible  to  forget  the  attention  which  was  in  some 
respects  due  to  the  present  system  of  protections;  although  that 
attention  ought  certainly  not  to  be  carried  beyond  the  absolute  ne- 
6  cessity  of  the  case"     And  in  a  second  report  of  the  committee, 
drawn  by  the  same  gentleman,  in  that  part  of  it  which  proposes  a  di 
minution  of  duties  on  timber  from  the  north  of  Europe,  and  the  policy 
of  giving  a  legislative  preference  to  the  importation  of  such  timber  in 
the  log,  and  a  discouragement  of  the  importation  of  deals,  it  is  stated 
that  the  committee  reject  this  policy,  because,  among  other  reasons, 
6<  it  is  founded  on  a  principle  of  exclusion,  which  they  are  most  averse 
<€  to  see  brought  into  operation,  in  any  new  instance,  without  the  war- 
"  rant  of  some  evident  and  great  political  expediency  "  And  on  many 
subsequent  occasions,  the   same  gentleman  has  taken  ocasion  to  ob 
serve,  that  he  differed   from  those  who  thought  that  manufactures 
could  not  flourish  without  restrictions  on  trade;  that  old  prejudices 
of  that  sort  were  dying  away,  and  that  more  liberal  and  just  senti 
ments  were  taking  their  place.     These  sentiments  appear  to  have 
been  followed  by  important  legal  provisions,  calculated  to  remove  re 
strictions  ,and  prohibitions, where  they  were  most  severely  felt;  that  is 
to  say,  in  several  branches  of  navigation  and  trade. 

They  have  relaxed  their  colonial  system,  they  have  opened  the 
ports  of  their  islands,  and  have  done  away  the  restriction  which  limited 
the  trade  of  the  colony  to  the  mother  country.  Colonial  products  can 
now  be  carried  directly  from  the  islands  to  any  part  of  Europe;  and 
it  may  not  be  improbable,  considering  our  own  high  duties  on  spirits, 
that  that  article  may  be  exchanged  hereafter  by  the  English  West  In 
dia  colonies,  directly,  for  the  timber  and  deals  of  the  Baltic. 

It  may  be  added  "that  Mr.  Lowe,  whom  the  gentleman  has  cited, 
says,  that  nobody  supposes  that  the  three  great  staples  of  English 
manufactures,  cotton,  woollen,  and  hardware,  are  benefitted  by  any 
existing  protecting  duties;  and  that  one  object  of  all  these  protect 
ing  laws  is  usually  overlooked,  and  that  is,  that  they  have  been  in 
tended  to  reconcile  the  various  interests  to  taxation:  the  corn  law, 
for  example,  being  designed  as  some  equivalent  to  the  agricultural 
interest  for  the  burden  of  tithes  and  of  poor  rates. 

In  fine,  Sir,  I  think  it  is  clear,  that,  if  we  now  embrace  the  system 
of  prohibitions  and  restrictions,  we  shall  shew  an  affection  for  what 
others  have  discarded,  and  be  attempting  to  ornament  ourselves  with 
cast  off  apparel.* 

*  Vide  xoxr  at  end. 


19 

Sir,  I  should  not  have  gone  into  this  prolix  detail  of  opinions  from 
any  consideration  of  their  special  importance  on  the  present  occa 
sion;  but,  having  happened  to  state,  that  such  was  the  actual  opinion 
of  the  government  of  England  at  the  present  time,  and  the  accuracy 
of  this  representation  having  been  so  confidently  denied,  I  have  cho 
sen  to  put  the  matter  beyond  doubt  or  cavil,  although  at  the  expense 
of  these  tedious  citations.  I  shall  have  occasion,  hereafter,  of  refer 
ring  more  particularly  to  sundry  recent  British  enactments,  by  way 
of  shewing  the  diligence  and  spirit  with  which  that  government  strives 
to  sustain  its  navigating  interest,  by  opening  the  widest  possible  range 
to  the  enterprise  of  individual  adventurers.  I  repeat,  that  I  have 
not  alluded  to  these  examples  of  a  foreign  state  as  being  fit  to  con 
trol  our  own  policy.  In  the  general  principle,  I  acquiesce.  Protec 
tion,  when  carried  to  the  point  which  is  now  recommended,  that  is, 
to  entire  prohibition,  seems  to  me,  destructive  of  all  commercial  in 
tercourse  between  nations.  We  are  urged  to  adopt  the  system  upon 
general  principles;  and  what  would  be  the  consequence  of  the  uni 
versal  application  of  such  a  general  principle,  but  that  nations  would 
abstain  entirely  from  all  intercourse  with  one  another?  I  do  not  ad 
mit  the  general  principle;  on  the  contrary,  I  think  freedom  of  trade 
to  be  the  general  principle,  and  restriction  the  exception.  And  it  is 
for  every  state,  taking  into  vir-w  its  own  condition,  to  judge  of  the 
propriety,  in  any  case,  of  making  an  exception,  constantly  preferring, 
as  I  tnink  all  wise  governments  will,  not  to  depart  without  urge  a 
reason  from  the  general  rule. 

There  is  another  point  in  the  existing  policy  of  England,  to  which 
I  would  most  earnestly  invite  the  attention  of  the  committee;  I  mean 
the  warehouse  system,  or  what  we  usually  call  the  system  of  draw 
back.  Very  great  prejudices  appear  to  me  to  exist  with  us  on  that 
subject.  We  seem  averse  to  the  extension  of  the  principle.  The  Eng 
lish  government  on  the  contrary,  appear  to  have  carried  it  to  the  ex 
treme  of  liberality.  They  have,  arrived,  however  at  their  present 
opinions,  and  present  practice,  by  slow  degr.-es.  The  transit  sys 
tem  was  commenced  about  the  year  1803,  but  the  first  law  was  par 
tial  and  limited .  It  admitted  the  importation  of  raw  materials  for 
exportation,  but  it  excluded  almost  every  sort  of  manufactured  goods. 
This  was  done  for  the  same  reason  that  we  propose  to  prevent  the 
transit  of  Canadian  wheat  through  the  United  States — the  fear  of  aid 
ing  the  competition  of  the  foreign  article  with  our  own,  in  foreign 
markets.  Better  reflection,  or  more  experience,  has  induced  them 
to  abandon  that  mode  of  reasoning,  and  to  consider  all  such  means 
of  influencing  foreign  markets  as  nugatory:  since,  in  the  present  ac 
tive  and  enlightened  state  of  the  world,  nations  will  supply  themselves 
from  the  best  sources,  and  tfie  true  policy  of  ail  producers,  whether 
ot  raw  materials,  or  of  manufactured  articles,  is,  not  vainly  to  endea 
vor  to  keep  other  vendors  out  of  the  market,  but  to  conquer  them  in 
it,  by  the  quality  and  ilu-  -heap:;  .cir  articles.  The  present 

policy  of  England,  therefore,  is,  t»>  sUlnrr  th^  importation  of  eommo- 


20 

dities  into  England,  there  to  be  deposited  in  English  warehouses, 
thence  to  be  exported  in  assorted  cargoes,  and  thus  enabling  her  to 
carry  on  a  general  export  trade  to  all  quarters  of  the  globe.  Articles 
of  all  kinds,  with  the  single  exception  of  tea,  may  be  brought 
into  England,  from  any  part  of  the  world,  in  foreign  as  well 
as  British  ships,  there  warehoused,  and  again  exported,  at  the  plea 
sure  of  the  owner,  without  the  payment  of  any  duty,  or  government 
charge  whatever. 

While  I  am  upon  this  subject,  I  would  take  notice  also  of  the  re 
cent  proposition  in  the  English  Parliament  to  abolish  the  tax  on  im 
ported  wool;  and  it  is  observable,  that  those  who  support  this  propo 
sition,  give  the  same  reasons  as  have  been  offered  here,  within  the 
last  week,  against  the  duty  which  we  propose  on  the  same  article. 
They  say,  that  their  manufacturers  require  a  cheap  and  coarse  wool, 
for  the  supply  of  the  Mediterranean  and  Levant  trade,  and  that,  with 
out  a  more  free  admission  of  the  wool  of  the  continent,  that  trade 
will  all  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Germans  and  Italians,  who  will  carry 
it  on  through  Leghorn  and  Trieste.  While  there  is  this  duty  on  fo 
reign  wool  to  protect  the  wool  growers  of  England,  there  is  on  the 
other  hand  a  prohibition  on  the  exportation  of  the  native  article,  in 
aid  of  the  manufacturers.  The  opinion  seems  to  be  gaining  strength, 
that  the  true  policy  is  to  abolish  both. 

Laws  have  long  existed  in  England,  preventing  the  emigration  of 
artisans,  and  the  exportation  of  machinery;  but  the  policy  of  these,  also, 
has  become  doubted,  and  an  inquiry  has  been  instituted  in  Parlia 
ment  into  the  expediency  of  repealing  them.  As  to  the  emigration  of 
artisans,  say  those  who  disapprove  the  laws,  if  that  were  desirable, 
no  law  could  effect  it;  and  as  to  the  exportation  of  machinery,  let  us 
fabricate  and  export  it,  as  we  would  any  other  commodity.  If  France 
is  determined  to  spin  and  weave  her  own  cotton,  let  us,  if  we  may, 
still  have  the  benefit  of  furnishing  the  machinery. 

I  have  stated  these  things,  Sir,  to  shew  what  seems  to  be  the  gene 
ral  tone  of  thinking  and  reasoning  on  these  subjects  in  that  country, 
the  example  of  which  has  been  so  much  pressed  upon  us.  Whether 
the  present  policy  of  England  be  right  or  wrong,  wise  or  unwise,  it 
cannot,  as  it  seems  clearly  to  me,  be  quoted  as  an  authority  for  car 
rying  further  the  restrictive  and  exclusive  system,  either  in  regard  to 
manufactures  or  trade.  To  re-establish  a  sound  currency,  to  meet 
at  once  the  shock,  tremendous  as  it  was,  of  the  fall  of  prices,  to  en 
large  her  capacity  for  foreign  trade,  to  open  wide  the  field  of  indivi 
dual  enterprise  and  competition,  and  to  say,  plainly  and  distinctly, 
that  the  country  must  relieve  itself  from  the  embarrassments  which  it 
felt,  by  economy,  frugality,  and  renewed  efforts  of  enterprize;  these 
appear  to  be  the  general  outline  of  the  policy  which  England  has  pur 
sued. 

Mr.  Chairman:  I  will  say  a  few  words  upon  a  topic,  but,  for  the 
introduction  of  which,  into  this  debate,  I  should  not  have  given  the 
Committee,  on  this  occasion,  the  trouble  of  hearing  me.  Some  days 


21 

ago,  1  believe  it  was  when  we  were  settling  the  controversy  between 
the  oil  merchants  and  the  tallow  chandlers,  the  Balance  of  Trade  made 
its  appearaiuc  in  debate,  and  I  must  confess,  Sir,  that  I  spoke  of  it, 
or  rather  spoke  to  it,  somewhat  freely  and  irreverently.     I  believe  I 
used  the  hard  names  which  have  been  imputed  to  me;  and  I  did   it 
simply  for  the  purpose  of  laying  the  spectre,  and  driving  it  back  to  its 
tomb.     Certainly,  Sir,  when  I   called  the  old  notion  on  this  subject 
nonsense,  1  did  not  suppose  that  I  should  offend  any  one,  unless  the 
dead  should  happen  to  hear  me.      All  the  living  generation,  I  took  it 
for  granted,  would  think  the  term  very  properly  applied.     In  this, 
however,  I  was  mistaken.     The  dead  and  the  living  rise  up  together 
to  call  me  to  account,  and  I  must  defend  myself  as  well  as  I  am  able 
Let  us  inquire,  then,  Sir,  what  is  meant  by  an  unfavorable  balance 
of  trade,  and  what  the  argument  is,  drawn  from  that  source.     By  an 
unfavorable  balance  of  trade,  I  understand,  is  meant  that  state  of 
things  in  which  importation  exceeds  exportation.     To  apply  it  to  our 
own  case,  if  the  value  of  goods  imported,  exceed  the  value  of  those 
exported,  then  the  balance  of  trade  is  said  to  be  against  us,  inasmuch 
as  we  have  run  in  debt  to  the  amount  of  this  difference.     Therefore, 
it  is  said,  that,  if  a  nation  continue  long  in  a  commerce  like  this,  it: 
must  be  rendered  absolutely  bankrupt.     It  is  in  the  condition  of  a 
man  that  buys  more  than  he  sells;  and  how  can  such  a  traffic  be  main 
tained  without  ruin?     Now,  Sir,  the  whole  fallacy  of  this  argument 
consists  in  supposing  that,   whenever  the  value   of  imports  exceeds 
that,  of  exports,  a  debt  is  necessarily  created  to  the  extent  of  the  dif 
ference:  whereas,  ordinarily,  the  import  is  no  more  than  the  result  of 
the  export,  augmented  in  value  by  the  labor  of  transportation.     The 
excess  of  imports  over  exports,  in  truth,  usually  shows  the  gains,  not 
the  los^-s  of  trade;  or,  in  a  country  that  not.  only  buys  and  sells  goods, 
but  employs  ships  in  carrying  goods  also,  it  shows  the  profits  of  com 
merce,  and  the  earnings  of  navigation.     Nothing  is  more  certain  than 
that  in  the  usual  course  of  things,  and  taking  a  series  of  years  together, 
the  value  of  our  imports  is  the  aggregate  of  our  exports  and  our. 
freights.     If  the  value  of  commodities,  imported  in  a  given  case,  did 
not  exceed  the  value  of  the  outward   cargo,  with  which  they  were 
purchased,  then  it  would  be  clear  to  every  man's  common  sense,  that 
the  voyage  had  not  been  profitable:     If  such  commodities  fell  far  short 
in  value  of  the  cost  of  the  outward  cargo,  then  the  voyage  would  be  a 
very  losing  one;   and  yet  it  would  present    exactly   that   state   of 
things,  which,  according  to  the  notion  of  a  balance  of  trade,  can  alone 
indicate  a  prosperous  commerce.     On  the  other  hand,  if  the  return 
cargo  were  found   to  be  worth  much  more  than  the  outward  cargo, 
while  the  merchant,   having  paid  for  the  goods  exported,  and  all  the 
expenses  of  the  voyage,  finds  a  handsome  sum  yet  in  his  hands,  which 
he  calls  profits,  the  balance  of  trade  is  still  against  him,  and  whatever 
he  may  think  'T  if,  he  is  in  a  very  bad  way.     Although  one  individual, 
or  all  individuals  ^ain,  the  nation  lose»;  while  all  its  citizens   grow 
rich,  the  country  grows  poor.     This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  balance  of 


22 

trade.  Allow  me,  Sir,  to  give  an  instance  tending  to  shew  how 
unaccountably  individuals  deceive  themselves,  and  imagine  themselves 
to  be  somewhat  rapidly  mending  their  condition,  while  they  ought  to 
be  persuaded  that,  by  that  infallible  standard,  the  balance  of  trade, 
they  are  on  the  high  road  to  ruin.  Some  years  ago,  in  better  times 
than  the  present,  a  ship  left  one  of  the  towns  of  New  England  with 
70,000  specie  dollars.  She  proceeded  to  Mocha,  on  the  Red  Sea,  and 
there  laid  out  these  dollars  in  coffee,  drugs,  spices,  &c  With  this 
new  cargo  she  proceeded  to  Europe;  two-thirds  of  it  were  sold  in 
Holland  for  $130,000,  which  the  ship  brought  back,  and  placed  in  the 
same  Bank,  from  the  vaults  of  which  she  had  tak*-n  her  original  outfit. 
The  other  third  was  sent  to  the  ports  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  pro 
duced  a  return  of  25,000  dollars  in  specie,  and  15,000  dollars  in 
Italian  merchandise.  These  sums  together  make  170,000  dollars  im 
ported,  which  is  100,000  dollars  more  than  was  exported,  and  is 
therefore  proof  of  an  unfavorable  balance  of  trade,  to  that  amount,  in 
this  adventure.  We  should  find  no  great  difficulty,  Sir,  in  paying 
off  our  balances  if  this  were  the  nature  of  them  all. 

The  truth  is,  Mr.  Chairman,  that  all  these  obsolete  and  exploded  no- 
tionshad  their  origin  in  very  mistaken  ideas  of  the  true  nature  of 
commerce.  Commerce  is  not  a  gambling  among  nations  for  a  stake,  to 
be  won  by  some  and  lost  by  others.  It  has  not  the  tendency  neces 
sarily  to  impoverish  one  of  the  parties  to  it,  while  it  enriches  the 
other;  all  parties  gain,  all  parties  make  profits,  all  parties  grow  rich, 
by  the  operations  of  just  and  liberal  commerce.  If  the  world  had  but 
one  dime,  and  but  one  soil;  if  all  men  had  the  same  wants  and  the 
same  means,  on  the  spot  of  their  existence,  to  gratify  those  wants; 
then,  indeed,  what  one  obtained  from  the  other  by  exchange,  would 
injure  one  party  in  the  same  degree  that  it  benefitted  the  other;  then, 
indeed,  there  would  be  some  foundation  for  the  balance  of  trade.  But 
Providence  has  disposed  our  lot  much  more  kindly.  We  inhabit  a 
various  earth.  We  have  reciprocal  wants,  and  reciprocal  means  for 
gratifying  one  another's  wants.  This  is  the  true  origin  of  commerce, 
which  is  nothing  more  than  an  exchange  of  equivalents,  and  from  the 
rude  barter  of  its  primitive  state,  to  the  refined  and  complex  state  in 
which  we  see  it,  its  principle  is  uniformly  the  same;  its  only  object 
being,  in  every  stage,  to  produce  that  exchange  of  commodities  be 
tween  individuals  and  between  nations,  which  shall  conduce  to  the 
advantage  and  to  the  happiness  of  both.  Commerce  between  nations 
has  the  same  essential  character,  as  commerce  between  individuals, 
or  between  parts  of  the  same  nation.  Cannot  two  individuals  make 
an  interchange  of  commodities  which  shall  prove  beneficial  to  both, 
or  in  which  the  balance  of  trade  shall  be  in  favor  of  both?  If  not,  the 
tailor  and  the  shoemaker,  the  fanner  and  the  smith,  have  hitherto 
very  much  misunderstood  their  own  interest.  And  with  regard  to  the 
internal  trade  of  a  country,  in  which  the  same  rule  would  apply  as 
between  nations,  do  we  ever  speak  of  such  an  intercourse  being  pre 
judicial  lo  one  side  because  it  is  useful  to  the  other?  Do  we  ever  hear 


28 

that,  because  the  intercourse  between  New  York  and  Albany  is  ad  - 
vantage- ous  to  one  of  those  places,  it  must  therefore  be  ruinous  to  the 
other? 

May  I  be  allowed,  sir,  to  read  a  passage  on  this  subject  from  the 
obsevations  of  a  gentleman,  in  my  opinion  one  of  the  most  clear  and 
sensible  writers  and  speakers  of  the  age  upon  subjects  of  this  sort?' 
€<  There  is  no  political  question  on  which  the  prevalence  of  false  princi 
ples  is  so  general,  as  in  what  relates  to  the  nature  of  commerce  and 
<cto  the  pretended  balance  of  trade;  and  there  are  few  which  have  led 
"to  a  greater  number  of  practical  mistakes,  attended  with  conse- 
"  quences  extensively  prejudicial  to  the  happiness  of  mankind.  In 
"  this  country,  our  parliamentary  proceedings,  our  public  documents, 
"  and  the  works  of  several  able  and  popular  writers,  have  combined  to 
"  propagate  the  impression  that  we  are  indebted  for  much  of  our  riches 
"  to  what  is  called  tlif.balancf  of  trade."  "Our  true  policy  would  surely 
"be  to  profess,  as  the  object  and  guide  of  our  commercial  system, 
*'  that  which  every  man  who  has  studied  the  subject,  must  know  to  be 
"the  true  principle  of  commerce,  the  interchange  of  reciprocal  and 
"  equivalent  benefit.  We  may  rest  assured  that  it  is  not  in  the  nature 
"of  commerce  to  enrich  one  party  at  the  expense  of  the  other.  This 
"  is  a  purpose  at  which,  if  it  were  practicable,  we  ought  not  to  aim; 
"and  which,  if  we  aimed  at,  we  could  not  accomplish."  These  re 
marks,  I  believe,  sir,  were  written  some  ten  or  twelve  years  ago.  They 
are  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  opinions  advanced  in  more  elabo 
rate  treatises,  and  now  that  the  world  has  returned  to  a  state  of  peace, 
and  commerce  has  resumed  its  natural  channels,  and  different  nations 
are  enjoying,  or  seeking  to  enjoy,  their  respective  portions  of  it,  all  see 
the  justness  of  these  ideas;  all  see,  that,  in  this  day  of  knowledge  and 
of  peace,  there  can  be  no  commerce  between  nations  but  that  which 
shall  benefit  all  who  are  parties  to  it. 

If  it  were  necessary,  Mr.  Chairman,  I  might  ask  the  attention  of  the 
committee  to  recur  to  a  document  before  us,  on  this  subject,  of  the 
balance  of  trade.  It  will  be  seen  by  reference  to  the  accounts,  that,  in 
the  course  of  the  last  year,  our  total  export  to  Holland  exceeded  two 
millions  and  a  half;  our  total  import  from  the  same  country  was  but 
700,000  dollars.  Now  can  any  man  be  wild  enough  to  make  an\ 
inference  from  this  of  the  gain  or  loss  of  our  trade  with  Holland  for 
that  year?  Our  trade  with  Russia  for  the  same  year,  produced  a  ba 
lance  the  other  wav;  our  import  being  two  millions,  and  our  export 
but  half  a  million.  But  this  has  no  more  tendency  to  shew  the  Russian 
trade  a  losing  trade,  than  the  other  statement  has  to  shew  thai  the 
Dutch  trade  has  been  a  gainful  one.  Neither  of  them,  by  itself,  proves 
any  thing. 

^prin^ing  out  of  this  notion   of  a  balance  of  trade,  there  has  be<>n 
another  idea,  which  has  been  much  dwelt  upon  in  the  course  of  this  de 
bate;  that  is,  that  we  ought  not  to  buy  of  nations  who  do  not  buy  of  u*: 

"  Mr.  Httskisson,  President  of  the  English  Board  of  Trade. 


24 

jfor  example,  that  the  Rusian  trade  is  a  trade  disadvantageous  to  the 
country,  and  ought  to  be  discouraged,  because,  in  the  ports  of  Russia, 
we  buy  more  than  we  sell.     Now   allow  me  to  observe,  in  the   first 
place,  sir,  that  we  have  no  account  shewing  how  much  we  do  sell  in 
the  ports  of  Russia.     Our  official    returns   shew  us  only   what  is  the 
amount  of  our  direct   exports   to  her  ports.     But  then  we   all  know 
that  the  proceeds  of  other  of  our  exports  go  to  the  same  market,  though 
indirectly.     We  send  our  own  products,  for  example,  to  Cuba,  or  to 
Brazil;  we  there  exchange  them  for  the  sugar  and  the  coffee  of  those 
countries,  and  these  articles  we  carry  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  there  sell 
them.  Again;  our  exports  to  Holland  and  Hamburg  are  connected  di 
rectly  or  indirectly  with  our  imports  from  Russia.     What  difference 
does  it  make,  in  sense  or  reason,  whether  a  cargo  of  iron  be  bought  at  St. 
.Petersburg  by  the  exchange  of  a  cargo  of  tobacco,  or  whether  the  tobac 
co  has  been  sold  on  the  way,  in  a  better  market,  in  a  port  of  Holland, 
the  money   remitted  to  England,   and  the  iron   paid  for  by  a  bill  on 
London?  There  might  indeed  have  been  an  augmented  freight,  there 
might  have  been  some  saving  of  commissions,  if  tobacco  had  been  in 
brisk  demand  in  the  Russian    market.     But  still  there  is   nothing  to 
shew  that   the  whole  voyage  may  not  have  been  highly    profitable. 
That  depends  upon  the  original  cost  of  the  article  here,  the   amount 
of  freight  and  insurance  to  Holland,  the  price  obtained  there,  the  rate 
of  exchange  between  Holland  and  England;  the  expense,  then,  of  pro 
ceeding  to  St.  Petersburg,  the  price  of  iron  there,  the  rate  of  exchange 
between  that  place  and  England,  the  amount  of  freight  and  insurance 
home,  and  finally,  the  value  of  the  iron,  when  brought  to  our  own  mar 
ket.     These  are  the  calculations  which  determine  the  fortune  of  the 
adventure;  and  nothing  can  be  judged  of  it,  one  way  or  the  other,  by  the 
relative  state  of  our  imports  or  exports  with  Holland,  England,  or  Russia. 
I  would  not  be  understood  to  deny  that  it  may  often  be  our  interest 
to  cultivate  a  trade  with  countries  that  most  require  such  commodities 
as  we  can  furnish,  and  which  are  capable  also  of  directly  supplying 
our  own  wants.     This  is  the    simplest  and   most  original  form  of  all 
commerce,  and  is,  no  doubt,  highly  beneficial.     And   some  countries 
are  so  situated,  doubtless,   that  commerce,  in  this  original  form,   or 
something  near  it,  may  be  all  that  they  can,  without  considerable  in 
convenience,  carry  on.     Our  trade,  for  example,  with  Madeira  and 
the  Western  Islands,  has  been  useful  to  the  country  as  furnishing  a 
demand  for  some  portion  of  our  agricultural  products,  which  probably 
could  not  have  been  bought,  had  we  not  received  their  products  in  re 
turn.     Countries  situated  still  farther  from  the  great  marts  and  high 
ways  of  the  commercial  world,  may  afford  still  stronger  instances  of 
the  necessity  and  utility  of  conducting   commerce  on  the    original 
principle  of  barter,  without  much  assistance   from  the  operations  of 
credit  and  exchange.     All  I  would  be  understood  to  say  is,  that  it  by 
no  roeans  follows  that  that  must  be  a  losing  trade    witfc  any   country, 
from  which  we  receive  more  of  her  products  than  she  receives  of  ours. 
And  since  I  was  supposed  the  other  day,  in  speaking  upon  this  subject, 
to  have  advanced  opinions  which  notonly  this  country  ought  to  n-joct, 


25 

but  wjiich  also  other  countries,  and  those  the  most  distinguished  for 
skill  and  success  in  commercial  intercourse,  do  reject,  I  will  ask  leave 
to  refer  again  to  the  discussion  which  I  first  mentioned  in  the  English 
Parliament,  relative  to  the  foreign  trade  of  that  country.  "  With  re- 
if  gard,"  says  the  mover*  of  the  proposition,  "  to  the  argument  em- 
"  employed  against  renewing  our  intercourse  with  the  north  of  Europe, 
"namely,  that  those  who  supplied  us  with  timber  from  that  quarter 
•'  would  not  receive  British  manufactures  in  return,  it  appeared  to 
"  him  futile  and  ungrounded.  If  they  did  not  send  direct  for  our 
*'  manufactures  at  home,  they  would  send  for  them  to  Leipsic  and  other 
;<  fairs  of  Germany.  Were  not  the  Russian  and  Polish  merchants 
4i  purchasers  there  to  a  great  amount?  But  he  would  never  admit  the 
*' principle,  that  a  trade  was  not  profitable,  because  we  were  obliged 
41  to  carry  it  on  with  the  precious  metals,  or  that  we  ought  to  renounce 
*'it,  because  our  manufactures  were  not  received  by  the  foreign  na- 
"  tion,  in  return  for  its  produce.  Whatever  we  received  must  be 
*f  paid  for  in  the  produce  of  our  land  and  labor,  directly  or  circuitous- 
"  ly,  and  he  was  glad  to  have  the  noble  Earl'st  marked  concurrence 
'*  in  this  principle." 

Referring  ourselves  again,  sir,  to  the  analogies  of  common  life,  no 
one  would  say,  that  a  farmer  or  a  mechanic  should  buy  only  where  he 
can  do  so  by  the  exchange  of  his  own  produce,  or  of  his  own  manufac 
ture.  Such  exchange  may  be  often  convenient;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  cash  purchase  may  be  often  more  convenient.  It  is  the  same  in 
the  intercourse  of  nations.  Indeed,  Mr.  Speaker  has  placed  this 
argument  on  very  clear  grounds.  It  has  been  said,  in  the  early  part 
of  the  debate,  that  if  we  cease  to  import  English  cotton  fabrics,  Eng 
land  would  no  longer  continue  to  purchase  our  cotton.  To  this,  Mr. 
Speaker  has  replied,  with  great  force  and  justice,  that,  as  she  must 
have  cotton  in  large  quantities,  she  will  buy  the  article  where  she  can 
find  it  best  and  cheapest;  and  that  it  would  be  quite  ridiculous  in  her, 
manufacturing  as  she  still  would  be,  for  her  own  vast  consumption, 
and  the  consumption  of  millions  in  other  countries,  to  reject  our  up 
lands,  because  we  had  learned  to  manufacture  a  part  of  them  for  our 
selves.  And  would  it  not  be  equally  ridiculous  in  us,  if  the  commodi 
ties  of  Russia  were  both  cheaper,  and  better  suited  to  our  wants,  than 
could  be  found  elsewhere,  to  abstain  from  commerce  with  her,  because 
she  will  not  receive,  in  return,  other  commodities  which  we  have  to 
sell,  but  which  she  has  no  occasion  to  buy? 

Intimately  connected,  sir,  with  this  topic,  is  another,  which  has  been 
brought  into  the  debate;  I  mean,  the  evil  so  much  complained  of — the 
exportation  of  specie.  We  hear  gentlemen  imputing  the  loss  of 
market  at  home  to  a  want  of  money,  and  this  want  of  money  to  the 
exportation  of  the  precious  metals.  We  hear  the  India  and  China 
trade  denounced,  as  a  commerce  conducted  on  our  side,  in  a  great 
measure,  with  gold  and  silver.  These  opinions,  sir,  are  clearly  void 
of  all  just  foundation,  and  we  cannot  too  soon  get  rid  of  them.  There 

*  Mirquis  of  Lansdowne.         f  Lord  Liverpool. 


26 

are  no  shallower  reasoners,  than  those   political   and   commercial 
writers,  who  would  represent  it  to  be  the  only  true  and  gainful  end  of 
commerce,  *o  accumulate  the  precious  metals.     These  are  articles  of 
use,  and  articles  of  merchandise,  with  this  additional  circumstance 
belonging  to  them,  that  they  are  made,  by  the  general  consent  of  na 
tions,  the  standard  by  which  the  value  of  all  other  merchandise  is  to 
be  estimated.     In  regard  to  weights  and  measures,  something  drawn 
from  external  nature  is  made  a  common  standard,  for  the  purposes  of 
general  convenience;  and  this  is  precisely  the  office  performed  by 
the  precious  metals,  in  addition  to  those  uses  to  which,  as  metals,  they 
are  capable  of  being  applied.    There  may  be  of  these,  too  much  or 
too  little,  in  a  country,  at  a  particular  time,  as  there  may  be  of  any 
other  articles.     When  the  market  is  overstocked   with  them,  as  it 
often  is,  their  exportation  becomes  as  proper  and  as  useful  as  that  of 
other  commodities,  under  similar  circumstances.  We  need  no  more 
repine,  when  the  dollars,  which  have  been  brought  here  from  South 
America,  are  despatched  to  other  countries,  than  when  coffee  and  su 
gar  take  the  same  direction.  We  often  deceive  ourselves  by  attributing 
to  a  scarcity  of  money,  that  which  is  the  result  of  other  causes.  In  the 
course  of  this  debate.-  the  honorable  member  from  Pennsylvania  has  re 
presented  the  country  as  full  of  every  thing  but  money.  But  this,  I  take 
to  be  a  mistake.     The  agricultural  products,  so  abundant  in  Pennsyl 
vania,  will  not,  he  says,  sell  for  money;  but  they  will  sell  for  money  as 
quick  as  for  any  other  article  which  happens  to  be  in  demand.  They  will 
^sell  for  money ,for  example,  as  easily  as  for  coffee,  or  for  tea,  at  the  prices 
which  properly  belong  to  those  articles.  The  mistake  lies  in  imputing 
that  to  want  of  money,  which  arises  from  want  of  demand.  Men  do  not 
buy  wheat  because  they  have  money,  but  because  they  want  wheat, 
To  decide  whether  money  be  plenty  or  not,  that  is,  whether  there  be 
a  large  portion  of  capital  unemployed  or  not,  when  the  currency  of  a 
country  is  metallic,  we  must  look,  not  only  to  the  prices  of  commodi 
ties,  but  also  to  the  rate  of  interest.  A  low  rate  of  interest,  a  facility 
of  obtaining  money  on  loans,  a  disposition  to  invest  in  permanent 
stocks,  all  of  which  are  proofs  that  money  is  plenty,  may  neverthe 
less  often  denote  a  state  not  of  the  highest  prosperity.    They  may,  and 
often  do,  shew  a  want  of  employment  for  capital;  and  the  accumula 
tion  of  specie  shews  the  same  thing.     We  have  no  occasion  for  the 
precious  metals  as  money,  except  for  the  purposes  of  circulation,  or 
rather  of  sustaining  a  safe  paper  circulation.     And   whenever  there 
be  a  prospect  of  a  profitable  investment  abroad,  all  the  gold  and  silver, 
except  what  these  purposes  require,  will  be  exported.     For  the  same 
reason,   if  a   demand  exist  abroad  for  sugar  and   coffee,  whatever 
amount  of  those  articles  might  exist  in  the  country,  beyond  the  wants 
of  its  own  consumption,  would  be  sent  abroad  to  meet  that  demand. 
Besides,  sir,  how  should  it  ever  occur  to  any  body,  that  we  should 
continue  to  export  gold  and  silver,  if  we  did  not  continue  to  import 
them  also?  If  a  vessel  take  our  own   products  to  the  Havana,  or  else 
where,     exchange  them  for  dollars,    proceed  to  China,    exchange 
them  for  silks  and  teas,  bring  these  last  to  the  ports  of  the  Medi- 


27 

(4»  I 

terranean,  sell  them  there  for  dollars,  and  return  to  the  United 
States;  this  would  be  a  voyage  resulting  in  the  importation  of  the  pre 
cious  metals.  But  if  she  had  returned  from  Cuba,  and  the  dollars  ob 
tained  there  had  been  shipped  direct  from  the  United  States  to 
China,  the  China  goods  sold  in  Holland,  and  the  proceeds  brought 
home  in  the  hemp  and  iron  of  Russia,  this  would  be  a  voyage  in  which 
they  were  exported.  Yet  every  body  sees,  that  both  might  be  equal 
ly  beneficial  to  the  individuals  and  to  the  public.  I  believe,  sir,  that, 
in  point  of  fact,  we  have  enjoyed  great  benefit  in  our  trade  with  India 
and  China,  from  the  liberty  of  going  from  place  to  place  all  over  the 
world,  without  being  obliged  in  the  mean  time,  to  return  home — a  li 
berty  not  heretofore  enjoyed  by  the  private  traders  of  England,  in  re 
gard  to  India  and  China.  Suppose  the  American  ship  to  be  at  Brazil, 
for  example — she  could  proceed  with  her  dollars  direct  to  India,  and, 
in  return,  could  distribute  her  cargo  in  all  the  various  ports  of  Europe, 
or  America:  while  an  English  ship,  if  a  private  trader,  being  at 
Brazil,  must  first  return  to  England,  and  then  could  only  proceed  in. 
the  direct  line  from  England  to  India.  This  advantage,  our  country 
men  have  not  been  backward  to  improve;  and  in  the  debate  to  which  I 
have  already  so  often  referred,  it  was  stated,  not  without  some  corn- 
plaint  of  the  inconvenience  of  exclusion,  and  the  natural  sluggishness 
of  monopoly,  that  American  ships  were  at  that  moment  fitting  out  in 
the  Thames,  to  supply  France,  Holland,  and  other  countries  on. 
the  continent,  with  tea;  while  the  East  India  Company  would  not  do 
this  of  themselves,  nor  allow  any  of  their  fellow  countrymen  to  do  it 
or  them. 

There  is  yet  another  subject,  Mr.  Chairman,  upon  which  I  would 
wish  to  say  something,  if  I  might  presume  upon  the  continued  patience 
of  the  Committee.  We  hear,  sometimes,  in  the  House,  and  continual 
ly  out  of  it,  of  the  rate  of  exchange,  as  being  one  proof  that  we  are 
on  the  downward  road  to  ruin.  Mr.  Speaker  himself  has  adverted 
to  that  topic,  and  I  am  afraid  that  his  authority  may  give  credit  to 
opinions  clearly  unfounded,  and  which  lead  to  very  false  and  erroneous 
conclusions.  Sir,  let  us  see  what  the  facts  are.  Exchange  on  Eng 
land  has  recently  risen  one  or  one  and  a  half  per  cent.,  partly  owing, 
perhaps,  to  the  introduction  of  this  bill  into  Congress.  Before  this 
recent  rise,  and  for  the  last  six  months,  I  understand  its  average  may 
have  been  about  seven  and  a  half  per  cent,  advance.  Now,  supposing 
this  to  be  the  real,  and  not  merely,  as  it  is,  the  nominal  par  of  ex 
change,  between  us  and  England,  what  would  it  prove?  Nothing,  ex 
cept  that  funds  were  wanted,  in  England,  for  commercial  operations, 
to  be  carried  on  either  in  England  or  elsewhere.  It  would  not  neces 
sarily  shew  that  we  were  indebted  to  England:  for,  if  we  had  occasion 
to  pay  debts  in  Russia  or  Holland,  funds  in  England  would  naturally 
enough  be  required  for  such  a  purpose.  And  even  if  it  did  prove  that 
a  balance  was  due  England,  at  the  moment,  it  would  have  no  tenden 
cy  to  explain  to  us  whether  our  commerce  with  England  had  been  pro 
fitable  or  unprofitable.  But  it  is  not  true,  in  point  of  fact,  that  the 
real  price  of  exchange  is  seven  and  a  half  per  cent,  advance,  nor,  in- 


28 

* 

deed,  that  there  is,  at  the  present  moment,  any  advance  at  all.  That 
is  to  say,  it  is  not  true,  that  merchants  will  give  such  an  advance,  or 
any  advance,  for  money  in  England,  more  than  they  would  give  for 
the  same  amount,  in  the  same  currency,  here.  It  will  strike  every 
one,  who  reflects  upon  it,  that,  if  there  were  a  real  difference  of  seven 
and  a  half  per  cent,  money  would  be  immediately  shipped  to  Eng 
land;  because  the  expense  of  transportation  would  be  far  less  than 
that  difference.  Or,  commodities  of  trade  wouldbe  shipped  to  Europe, 
and  the  proceeds  remitted  to  England.  If  it  could  so  happen,  that 
American  merchants  should  be  willing  to  pay  ten  percent,  premium 
for  money  in  England,  or  in  other  words,  that  a  real  difference  to  that 
amount,  in  the  exchange,  should  exist,  its  effects  would  be  imme 
diately  seen  in  new  shipments  of  our  own  commodities  to  Europe, 
because  this  state  of  things  would  create  new  motives.  A  cargo  of 
tobacco,  for  example,  might  sell  at  Amsterdam  for  the  same  price  as 
before;  but  if  its  proceeds,  when  remitted  to  London,  were  advanced, 
as  they  would  be  in  such  case,  ten  \  er  cent,  by  the  state  of  exchange, 
this  would  be  so  much  added  to  the  price,  and  would  operate,  there 
fore,  as  a  motive  for  the  exportation;  and  in  this  way,  national  ba 
lances  are,  and  always  will  be,  adjusted. 

To  form  any  accurate  idea  of  the  true  state  of  exchange,  be 
tween  two  countries,  vre  must  look  at  their  currencies,  and  com 
pare  the  quantities  of  gold  and  silver  which  they  may  respective 
ly  represent.  This  usually  explains  the  state  of  the  exchanges: 
and  this  will  satisfactorily  account  for  the  apparent  advance,  now- 
existing,  on  bills  drawn  on  England.  The  English  standard  of 
value  is  gold:  with  us,  that  office  is  performed  by  gold,  and  by 
silver  also,  at  a  fixed  relation  to  each  other.  But  our  estimate 
of  silver  is  rather  higher,  in  proportion  to  gold,  than  most  nations 
give  it;  it  is  higher,  especially,  than  in  England,  at  the  present  mo 
ment.  The  consequence  is,  that  silver,  which  remains  a  legal  curren 
cy  with  us,  stays  here,  while  the  gold  has  gone  abroad;  verifying  the 
universal  truth,  that,  if  two  currencies  be  allowed  to  exist,  of  different 
values,  that  which  is  cheapest  will  fill  up  the  whole  circulation.  For 
as  much  gold  as  will  suffice  to  pay  here  a  debt  of  a  given  amount,  we. 
can  buy  in  England  more  silver  than  would  be  necessary  to  pay  the 
same  debt  here;  and  from  this  difference  in  the  value  of  silver  arises 
wholly,  or  in  a  great  measure,  the  present  apparent  difference  in  ex 
change.  Spanish  dollars  sell  now,  in  England,  for  four  shillings  and 
nine  pence  sterling  per  ounce;  equal  to  one  dollar  and  six  cents. 
By  our  standard,  the  same  ounce  is  worth  one  dollar  and  sixteen 
cents;  being  a  difference  of  about  nine  per  cent.  The  true  par  of  ex 
change,  therefore,  is  nine  per  cent.  If  a  merchant  here  pay  one  hun 
dred  Spanish  dollars  for  a  bill  on  England,  at  nominal  par,  in  sterling 
money,  that  is,  for  a  bill  for  .£22  10,  the  proceeds  of  this  bill,  when 
paid  in  England,  in  the  legal  currency,  will  there  purchase,  at  the 
present  price  of  silver,  one  hundred  and  nine  Spanish  dollars.  There 
fore,  if  the  nominal  advance  on  English  bills  do  not  exceed  nine  per 
cent,  the  real  exchange  is  not  against  this* country;  in  other  words,  it 
does  not  shew  that  there  is  any  pressing  or  particular  occasion  for  the 
remittance  of  funds  to  England. 


29 

As  little  can  be  inferred  from  the  occasional  transfer  of  United 
States'  stock  to  England.  Considering  the  interest  paid  on  our  stocks, 
the  entire  stability  of  our  credit,  and  the  accumulation  of  capital  in 
England,  it  is  not  at  all  wonderful  that  investments  should  occasion 
ally  be  made  in  our  funds.  As  a  sort  of  countervailing  fact,  it  may 
be  stated  that  English  stocks  are  now  actually  holdcn  in  this  coun 
try,  though  probably  not  to  any  considerable  amount. 

I  will  now  proceed,  sir,  to  state  some  objections  which  I  feel,  of  a 
more  general  nature,  to  the  course  of  Mr.  Speaker's  observations. 

He  seems  to  me  to  argue  the  question  as  ifall  domestic  industry  were 
confined  to  the  production  of  manufactured  articles;  as  if  the  employ 
ment  of  our  own  capital,  and  our  own  labor,  in  the  occupations  of 
commerce  and  navigation,  were  not  as  emphatically  domestic  indus 
try  as  any  other  occupation.  Some  other  gentlemen,  in  the  course  of 
the  debate,  have  spoken  of  the  price  paid  xor  every  foreign  manufac 
tured  article,  as  so  much  given  for  the  encouragement  of  foreign  la 
bor,  to  the  prejudice  of  our  own.  But  is  not  every  such  article  the 
product  of  our  own  labor  as  truly  as  if  we  had  manufactured  it  our 
selves?  Our  labor  has  earned  it,  and  paid  the  price  for  it.  It  is  so 
much  added  to  the  stock  of  national  wealth.  If  the  commodity  were 
dollars,  nobody  would  doubt  the  truth  of  this  remark;  and  it  is  pre 
cisely  as  correct  in  its  application  to  any  other  commodity  as  to  sil 
ver.  One  man  makes  a  yard  of  cloth  at  home;  another  raises  agricul 
tural  products,  and  buys  a  yard  of  imported  cloth.  Both  these  are 
equally  the  earnings  of  domestic  industry,  and  the  only  questions  that 
arise  in  the  case  are  two:  the  first  is,  which  is  the  best  mode,  under  all 
the  circumstances,  of  obtaining  the  article;  the  second  is,  how  far  this 
first  question  is  proper  to  be  decided  by  government,  and  how  Jar  it  is 
proper  to  be  left  to  individual  discretion.  There  is  no  foundation  for 
the  distinction  which  attributes  to  certain  employments  the  peculiar 
appellation  of  American  industry;  and  it  is,  in  myjudgment,  extreme 
ly  unwise,  to  attempt  such  discriminations.  We  are  asked  what  na 
tions  have  ever  attained  eminent  prosperity  without  encouraging  ma 
nufactures?  I  may  ask,  what  nation  ever  reached  the  like  prosperity 
without  promoting  foreign  trade?  I  regard  these  interests  as  closely 
connected,  and  am  of  opinion  that  it  should  be  our  aim  to  cause  them 
to  flourish  together.  I  know  it  would  be  very  easy  to  promote  manufac 
tures,  at  least  for  a  time,  but  probably  only  for  a  short  time,  if  we  might 
act  in  disregard  of  other  interests.  We  could  cause  a  sudden  trans 
fer  of  capital,  and  a  violent  change  in  the  pursuits  of  men.  We  could 
exceedingly  benefit  some  classes  by  these  means.  But  what,  then, 
becomes  of  the  interests  of  others?  The  power  of  collecting  revenue 
by  duties  on  imports,  and  the  habit  of  the  government  of  collecting 
almost  its  whole  revenue  in  that  mode,  will  enable  us,  without  ex 
ceeding  the  bounds  of  moderation,  to  give  great  advantages  to  those 
classes  of  manufactures  which  we  may  think,  most  useful  to  promote 
at  home.  What  I  object  to  is  the  immoderate  use  of  the  power — exclu 
sions  and  prohibitions;  all  of  win-  h,  as  I  think,  not  only  interrupt  the 
pursuits  of  individuals,  with  great  injury  to  themselves,  and  little  or 


30 

no  benefit  to  the  country,  but  also  often  divert  our  own  labor,  or,  as  it 
may  very  properly  be  called,  our  own  domestic  industry,  from  those 
occupations  in  which  it  is  well  employed  and  well  paid,  to  others,  in 
which  it  will  be  worse  employed,  and  worst  paid.  For  my  part,  I  see 
very  little  relief  to  those  who  are  likely  to  be  deprived  of  their  em 
ployments,  or  whofind  the  prices  of  the  commodities  which  they  need, 
raised,  in  any  of  the  alternatives  which  Mr.  Speaker  has  presented. 
It  is  nothing  to  say  that  they  may,  if  they  choose,  continue  to  buy  the 
foreign  article;  the  answer  is,  the  price  is  augmented:  nor  that  they 
may  use  the  domestic  article;  the  price  of  that  also  is  increased. 
Nor  can  they  supply  themselves  by  the  substitution  of  their  own  fabric. 
How  can  the  agriculturist  make  his  own  iron?  How  can  the  ship 
owner  grow  his  own  hemp? 

But  I  have  a  yet  stronger  objection  to  the  course  of  Mr.  Speak 
er's  reasoning;  which  is,  that  he  leaves  out  of  the  case  all  that 
has  been  already  done  for  the  protection  of  manufactures,  and 
argues  the  question  as  if  those  interests  were  now,  for  the  first 
time,  to  receive  aid  from  duties  on  imports.  I  can  hardly  express 
the  surprise  I  feel  that  Mr.  Speaker  should  fall  into  the"  coiumon 
modes  of  expression  used  elsewhere,  and  ask  if  we  will  give  our  ma 
nufacturers  no  protection.  Sir,  look  to  the  history  of  our  laws;  look 
to  the  present  state  of  our  laws.  Consider  that  our  whole  revenue, 
with  a  trifling  exception,  is  collected  at  the  custom  house,  and  always 
has  been;  and  then  say  what  propriety  there  is  in  calling  on  the  go 
vernment  for  protection,  as  if  no  protection  had  heretofore  been  af 
forded.  The  real  question  before  us,  in  regard  to  all  the  important 
clauses  of  the  bill,  is  not  whether  we  will  lay  duties,  but  whether  we 
will  augment  duties.  The  demand  is  for  something  more  than  exists, 
and  yet  it  is  pressed  as  if  nothing  existed.  It  is  wholly  forgotten 
that  iron  and  hemp,  for  example,  already  pay  a  very  heavy  and  bur- 
thensom  duty;  and,  in  short,  from  the  general  tenor  of  Mr.  Speaker's 
observations,  one  would  infer  that,  hitherto,  we  had  rather  taxed  our 
own  manufactures  than  fostered  them  by  taxes  on  those  of  other  coun 
tries.  We  hear  of  the  fatal  policy  of  the  tariff  of  1816;  and  yet  the 
law  of  1816  was  passed  avowedly  for  the  benefit  of  manufacturers, 
and,  with  very  few  exceptions,  imposed  on  imported  articles  very 
great  additions  of  tax;  in  some  important  instances,  indeed,  amount 
ing  to  a  prohibition. 

Sir,  on  this  subject  it  becomes  us  at  least  to  understand  the  real  pos 
ture  of  the  question.  Let  us  not  suppose  that  we  are  beginning  the 
protection  of  manufactures,  by  duties  on  imports.  What  we  are  ask 
ed  to  do  is,  to  render  those  duties  much  higher,  and  therefore,  instead 
of  dealing  in  general  commendations  of  the  benefits  ot  protection,  the 
friends  of  the  bill,  I  think,  are  bound  to  make  out  a  fair  case  for  each 
of  the  manufactures  wh'.ch  they  propose  to  benefit.  The  government 
has  already  done  much  for  their  protection,  and  it  ought  to  be  presum 
ed  to  have  done  enough,  unless  it  be  shewn,  by  the  facts  and  conside 
rations  applicable  to  each,  that  there  is  a  necessity  for  doing  more. 
On  the  general  question,  sir,  allow  me  to  ask  if  the  doctrine  of  pro 
hibition,  as  a  general  doctrine,  be  not  preposterous?  Suppose  all  na* 


31 


tlons  to  act  upon  it;  they  would  be  prosperous,  then,  accord  ing  to  the 
argument,  precisely  in  the  proportion  in  which  they  abolished  inter 
course  with  one  another.  The  less  of  mutual  commerce  the  better, 
upon  this  hypothesis.  Protection  and  encouragement  may  be,  and  are, 
doubtless,  sometimes,  wise  and  beneficial,  if  kept  within  proper  limits; 
but,  when  carried  to  an  extravagant  height,  or  the  point  of  prohibition, 
the  absurd  character  of  the  system  manifests  itself.  Mr.  Speaker  has 
referred  to  the  late  Emperor  Napoleon,  as  having  attempted  to  natu 
ralize  the  manufacture  of  cotton  in  France.  He  did  not  cite  a  more 
extravagant  part  of  the  projects  of  that  ruler,  that  is,  his  attempt  to 
naturalize  the  growth  of  that  plant  itself  in  France;  whereas,  we  havo 
understood  that  considerable  districts  in  the  south  of  France,  and  in 
Italy,  of  rich  and  productive  lands,  were  at  one  time  withdrawn  from 
profitable  uses,  and  devoted  to  raising,  at  great  expense,  a  little  bad 
cotton.  Nor  have  we  been  referred  to  the  attempts,  under  the  same 
system,  to  make  sugar  and  coffee  from  common  culinary  vegetables; 
attempts  which  served  to  fill  the  print  shops  of  Europe,  and  to  shew 
us  how  easy  is  the  transition  from  what  some  think  sublime,  to  that 
which  all  admit  to  be  ridiculous.  The  folly  of  some  of  these  projects 
has  not  been  surpassed,  nor  hardly  equalled,  unless  it  be  by  the  philo 
sopher  in  one  of  the  satires  of  Swift,  who  so  long  labored  to  extract 
sunbeams  from  cucumbers.* 

The  poverty  and  unhappiness  of  Spain  have  been  attributed  to  the 
want  oi  protection  to  her  own  industry.  If  by  this  it  be  meant  that 
the  poverty  of  Spain  is  owing  to  bad  government  and  bad  laws,  the  re 
mark  is,  in  a  great  measure,  just.  But  these  very  laws  are  bad  be 
cause  they  are  restrictive,  partial,  and  prohibitory.  If  prohibition 
were  protection,  Spain  would  seem  to  have  had  enough  of  it.  No 
thing  can  exceed  the  barbarous  rigidity  of  her  colonial  system,  or  the 
folly  of  her  early  commercial  regulations.  Unenlightened  and  bigoted 
legislation,  the  multitude  of  holidays,  miserable  roads,  monopolies  on 
the  part  of  government,  restrictive  laws,  that  ought  long  since  to  have 
been  abrogated,  are  generally,  and  I  believe  truly,  reckoned  the  prin 
cipal  causes  of  the  bad  state  of  the  productive  industry  of  Spain, 
Any  partial  improvement  in  her  condition,  or  increase  of  her  prospe 
rity,  has  been,  in  all  cases,  the  result  of  relaxation,  and  the  aboli 
tion  of  what  was  intended  for  favor  and  protection. 

In  short,  sir,  the  general  sense  of  this  age  sets,  with  a  strong  cur 
rent,  in  favor  of  freedom  of  commercial  intercourse,  and  unrestrained 
individual  action.  Men  yield  up  their  notions  of  monopoly  and  res 
triction,  as  they  yield  up  other  prejudices,  slowly  and  reluctantly; 
but  they  cannot  withstand  the  general  tide  of  opinion. 

*  "The  first  man  I  saw  was  of  a  meagre  aspect,  with  sooty  hands  and  face. 
His  hair  and  beard  long,  ragged,  and  singed  in  several  places.  His  clothes,  shirt, 
and  skin,  were  all  of  the  same  color.  He  had  been  eight  years  upon  a  project 
for  extracting  sun-beams  out  of  cucumbers,  which  were  to  be  put  into  phials 
hermetically  sealed,  and  let  out  to  warm  the  air,  in  raw  and  inclement  summers. 
He  told  me,  he  did  not  doubt,  in  eight  years  more,  he  should  be  able  to  supply 
the  Governor's  gardens  with  sunshine,  at  a  reasonable  rate;  but  he  complained 
that  his  stock  was  low,  and  intfeated  me  to  give  him  something  as  an  encourage-- 
went  to  ingenuity,  especially  as  this  had  been  a  dear  season  for  cucumbers." 


Let  me  now  ask,  sir,  what  relief  this  bill  proposes  to  some  of  those 
great  and  essential  interests  of  the  country,  the  condition  of  which 
has  been  referred  to  as  proof  of  national  distress;  and  which  condi 
tion,  although  1  do  not  think  is  makes  out  a  case  of  distress,  yet  does 
indicate  depression. 

And  first,  sir,  as  to  our  Foreign  Trade.  Mr.  Speaker  has  stated 
that  there  has  been  a  considerable  falling  off  in  the  tonnage  employed 
in  that  trade.  This  is  true,  lamentably  true.  In  my  opinion,  it  is  one 
of  those  occurrences  which  ought  to  arrest  our  immediate,  our  deep, 
our  most  earnest  attention.  What  does  this  bill  propose  for  its  relief? 
Sir,  it  proposes  nothing  but  new  burdens.  It  proposes  to  diminish 
its  employment,  and  it  proposes,  at  the  same  time,  to  augment  its  ex 
pense,  by  subjecting  it  to  heavier  taxation.  Sir,  there  is  no  interest, 
in  regard  to  which  a  stronger  case  for  protection  can  be  made  out, 
than  the  navigating  interest.  Whether  we  look  at  its  present  condi 
tion,  which  is  admitted  to  be  depressed;  the  number  of  persons  con 
nected  with  it,  and  dependent  upon  it  for  their  daily  bread;  or  its 
importance  to  the  country  in  a  political  point  of  view,  it  has  claims 
upon  our  attention  which  cannot  be  exceeded.  But  what  do  we  pro 
pose  to  do  for  it?  I  rqDeat,  sir,  simply  to  burden  and  to  tax  it.  By 
a  statement  which  I  have  already  submitted  to  the  Committee,  it  ap 
pears  that  the  shipping  interest  pays,  annually,  more  than  half  a  million 
of  dollars  in  duties  on  articles  used  in  the  construction  of  ships.  We 
propose  to  add  nearly,or  quite,  fifty  per  cent,  to  this  amount,  at  the  very 
moment  that  we  bring  forth  the  languishing  state  of  this  interest,  as  a 
proof  of  national  distress.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  our  shipping 
employed  in  foreign  commerce,  has,  at  this  moment,  not  the  shadow 
of  government  protection.  It  goes  abroad  upon  the  wide  sea  to  make 
its  own  way,  and  earn  its  own  bread,  in  a  professed  competition  with 
the  whole  world.  Its  resources  are  its  own  frugality,  its  own  skill, 
its  own  enterprise.  It  hopes  to  succeed,  if  it  shall  succeed  at  all,  not 
by  extraordinary  aid  of  government,  but  by  patience,  vigilance,  and 
toil.  This  right  arm  oi  the  nation's  safety  strengthens  its  own  muscle 
by  its  own  efforts,  and  by  unwearied  exertion  in  its  own  defence  be 
comes  strong  for  the  defence  of  the  country. 

No  one  acquainted  with  this  interest,  can  deny  that  its  situation,  at 
this  moment,  is  extremely  critical.  We  have  left  it  hitherto  to  main 
tain  itself  or  perish;  to  swim  if  it  can,  and  to  sink  if  it  cannot.  But  at 
this  moment  of  its  apparent  struggle,  can  we,  as  men,  can  we,  as  pat 
riots,  add  another  stone  to  the  weight  that  threatens  to  carry  it  down? 
Sir,  there  is  a  limit  to  human  power,  and  to  human  effort.  I  know 
the  commercial  marine  of  this  country  can  do  almost  everything,  and 
bear  almost  every  thing.  Yet  some  things  are  impossible  to  be  done; 
and  some  burthens  may  be  impossible  to  be  borne;  and  as  it  was  the  last 
ounce  that  broke  the  back  of  the  camel,  so  the  last  tax,  although  it 
were  even  a  small  one,  may  b**  decisive  as  to  the  power  of  our  marine, 
to  sustain  the  conflict  in  which  it  is  now  engaged,  with  all  the  com 
mercial  nations  on  the  globe. 

Again,  Mr.  Chairman,  the  failures  and  the  bankruptcies  which  have 
taken  place  in  our  large  cities,  have  been  mentioned  as  proving  the 


33 

little  success  attending  commerce,  and  its  general  decline.  But  this 
bill  has  no  balm  for  those  wounds.  It  is  very  remarkable,  that,  when 
losses  and  disasters  of  certain  manufacturers,  those  of  iron,  for  in 
stance,  are  mentioned,  it  is  done  for  the  purpose  of  invoking  aid  for 
the  distressed.  Not  so  with  the  losses  and  disasters  of  commerce^ 
these  last  are  narrated,  and  not  unfrequently  much  exaggt  rated,  to 
prove  the  ruinous  nature  of  the  employment,  and  to  show  that  it 
ought  to  be  abandoned,  and  the  capital  engaged  in  it  turned  to  other 
objects. 

It  has'been  often  said,  sir,  that  our  manufactures  have  to  contend,  not 
only  against  the  natural  advantages  of  those  who  produce  similar  arti 
cles  in  foreign  countries,  but  also  against  the  action  of  foreign  govern 
ments,  who  have  great  political  interest  in  aiding  their  own  manufac 
tures  to  suppress  ours.  But  have  not  these  governments  as  great  an 
interest  to  cripple  our  marine,  bv  preventing  the  growth  of  our  com 
merce  and  navigation  ?  What  Is  it  that  makes  us  the  object  of  the 
highest  respect,  or  the  most  suspiaious  jealousy,  to  foreign  states  ? 
AY  hat  is  it  that  most  enables  us  to  take  high  relative  rank  among  the 
nations?  1  need  not  say  that  this  results,  more  than  from  any  thing  else, 
from  that  quantity  of  military  power  which  we  can  cause  to  be  water 
borne,  and  of  that  extent  of  commerce,  which  we  are  able  to  maintain 
throughout  the  world. 

Mr.  Chairman,  I  am  conscious  of  having  detained  the  committee 
much  too  long  with  these  observations.  My  apology  for  now  proceed 
ing;  to  some  remaks  upon  the  particular  clauses  of  the  Bill,  is.  that,  re 
presenting  a  district,  at  once  commercial  and  highly  manufacturing, 
and  being  called  upon  to  vote  upon  a  Bill,  containing  provisions  so  nu 
merous,  and  so  various,  I  am  naturally  desirous  to  state  as  weli  what 
I  approve,  as  what  I  would  reject. 

The  first  section  proposes  an  augmented  duty  upon  woollen  manu 
factures.  This,  if  it  were  unqualified,  would  no  doubt  be  desirable 
to  those  who  are  engaged  in  that  business.  I  have  myself  presented 
a  petition  from  the  woollen  manufacturers  of  Massachusetts,  praying 
an  augmented  ad  valorem  duty  upon  imported  woollen  cluths;  and  I 
am  prepared  to  accede  to  that  proposition,  to  a  reasonable  extent.  But 
then  this  Bill  proposes,  also,  a  very  high  duty  upon  imported  wool;  and, 
as  far  as  I  can  learn,  a  majority  of  the  manufacturers  are  at  least 
extremely  doubtful  whether,  taking  these  two  provisions  together,  the 
state  of  the  law  is  not  better  for  them  now,  than  it  would  be  if  this 
Bill  should  pass.  It  is  said,  this  tax  on  raw  wool  will  benefit  the  agri 
culturist;  but  I  know  it  to  be  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  best  inf  >rm- 
ecl  of  that  class,  that  it  will  do  them  more  hurt  than  good.  They 
fear  it  will  check  the  manufacturer,  and  consequently  check  his 
demand  for  their  article.  The  argument  is,  that  a  certain  quanti 
ty  of  coarse  wool,  cheaper  than  \ve  can  possibly  furnish,  is  necessa 
ry  to  enable  the  manufacturer  to  carry  on  the  general  business,  and 
that  if  this  cannot  be  had,  the  consequence  will  be,  not  a  greater, 
but  a  less,  manufacture  of  our  own  wool.  I  am  aware  that  very 
intelligent  persons  difter  upon  this  point;  but,  if  we  may  safely  infer 
from  that  difference  of  opinion,  that  the  proposed  beuelit  is  at 
5 


34 

least  doubtful,  it  would  be  prudent  perhaps  to  abstain  from  the  experi 
ment.  Certain  it  is,  that  the  same  course  of  reasoning  has  occurred, 
as  T  have  before  stated,  on  the  same  subject,  when  a  renewed  applica 
tion  was  made  to  the  English  Parliament  to  repeal  the  duty  on  imported 
wool,  I  believe  scarcely  two  months  ago;  those  who  support  the  applica 
tion,  pressing  urgently  the  necessity  of  an  unrestricted  use  of  the  cheap, 
imported  raw  material,  with  a  view  to  supply,  with  coarse  cloths,  the 
markets  of  warm  climates,  such  as  those  of  Egypt  and  Turkev,  and 
especially  a  vast  new  created  demand  in  the  South  American  states. 

As  to  the  manufactures  of  cotton,  it  is  agreed,  I  believe,  that  they 
are  generally  successful.  It  is  understood  that  the  present  existing 
duty  operates  pretty  much  as  a  prohibition  over  those  descriptions  of 
fabrics  to  which  it  applies.  The  proposed  alteration  would  probably 
enable  the  American  manufacturer  to  commence  competition  with 
higher  priced  fabrics;  and  so  would,  perhaps,  an  augmentation  less 
than  is  here  proposed.  I  consider  the  cotton  manufactures  not  only  to 
have  reached,  but  to  have  passed,  the  point  of  competition.  I  regard 
their  success  as  certain,  and  their  growth  as  rapid  as  the  most  impa 
tient  could  well  expect.  If,  however,  a  provision  of  the  nature  of 
that  recommended  here,  were  thought  necessary  to  commence  new 
operations  in  the  same  line  of  manufacture,  I  should  cheerfully  agree 
to  it,  if  it  were  not  at  the  cost  of  sacrificing  other  great  interests  of 
the  country.  I  need  hardly  say,  that  whatever  promotes  the  cotton 
and  woollen  manufactures,  promotes  most  important  interests  of  my 
constituents.  They  have  a  great  stake  in  the  success  of  those  esta 
blishments,  and  as  far  as  those  manufactures  are  concerned,  would  be 
as  much  benefitted  by  the  provisions  of  this  bill,  as  any  part  of  the 
community.  It  is  obvious  too,  I  should  think,  that,  for  some  consi 
derable  time,  manufactures  of  this  sort,  to  whatever  magnitude  they 
may  rise,  will  be  principally  established  in  those  parts  of  the  country 
•where  population  is  most  dense,  capital  most  abundant,  and  where 
the  most  successful  beginnings  have  been  already  made. 

But  if  thesfc  be  thought  to  be  advantages,  they  are  greatly  counter 
balanced  by  other  advantages  enjoyed  by  other  portions  of  the  coun 
try.  I  cannot  but  regard  the  situation  of  the  West,  as  highly  favor 
able  to  human  happiness.  It  oflers,  in  the  abundance  of  its  new  and 
fertile  lands,  such  assurances  of  permanent  property  and  respectabi 
lity  to  the  industrious,  it  enables  them  to  lay  such  sure  foundations 
for  a  competent  provisison  for  their  families,  it  makes  such  a  nation 
of  freeholders,  that  it  need  not  envy  the  happiest  and  most  prosperous 
of  the  manufacturing  communities.  We  may  talk  as  we  will  of 
well  fed  and  well  clothed  day  laborers  or  journeymen;  they  are  not, 
afterall,  to  be  compared,  either  for  happiness,  or  respectability,  with 
him  who  sleeps  under  his  own  roof,  and  cultivates  his  own  fee  simple 
inheritance. 

With  respect  to  the  proposed  duty  on  Glass,  I  would  observe,  that, 
upon  the  best  means  of  judging  which  I  possess,  I  am  of  opinion,  that 
the  Chairman  of  the  Committee  is  right,  in  stating,  that  there  is,  in  ef 
fect,  a  bounty  upon  the  exportation  of  the  British  article.  1. think  it 
entirely  proper,  therefore,  to  raise  our  own  duty  by  such  an  amount 
as  shall  be  equivalent  to  that  bounty. 


35 

And,  here  Mr.  Chairman,  before  proceeding  to  those  parts  of  the 
Bill  to  which  I  most  strenuously  object,  I  will  be  so  presumptuous,  as 
to  take  up  a  challenge  which  Mr.  Speaker  has  thrown  down.  He  has 
asked  us,  in  a  tone  of  interrogatory  indicative  of  the  feeling  of  anti 
cipated  triumph,  to  mention  any  country  in  which  manufactures  have 
flourished,  without  the  aid  of  prohibitory  laws.  He  has  demanded, 
if  it  be  not  policy,  protection,  aye,  and  prohibition,  that  have  carried 
other  states  to  the  height  of  their  prosperity,  and  whether  any  one 
has  succeeded  with  such  tame  and  inert  legislation  as  ours.  Sir,  I  am 
ready  to  answer  this  inquiry. 

There  is  a  country,  not  undistinguished  among  the  nations,  in  which 
the  progress  of  manufactures  has  been  far  more  rapid  than  in  any  other, 
and  yet  unaided  by  prohibitions  or  unnatural  restrictions.  That  coun 
try,  the  happiest  which  the  sun  shines  on,  is  our  own. 

The  woollen  manufactures  of  England  have  existed  from  the  early 
ages  of  the  monarchy.  Provisions,  designed  to  aid  and  foster  them,  are 
in  the  blacklettered  statutes  of  the  Edwards  and  the  Henrys.  Ours, on 
the  contrary,  are  but  of  yesterday;  and  yet,  with  no  moie  than  the  pro 
tection  of  existing  laws,  they  are  already  at  the  point  of  close  and  promis 
ing  competition.  Sir,  nothing  is  more  unphilosophical  than  to  refer  us, 
on  these  subjects,  to  the  policy  adopted  by  other  nations  in  a  very  differ 
ent  state  of  society,  or  to  infer  that  what  was  judged  expedient  by 
them,  in  their  early  history,  must  also  be  expedient  for  us,  in  this  ear 
ly  part  of  our  own.  /Fhis  would  be  reckoning  our  age  chronologically, 
and  estimating  our  advance  by  our  number  of  years  ;  when,  in  truth, 
we  should  regard  only  the  state  of  society,  the  knowledge,  the  skill, 
the  capital,  the  enterprise,  which  belong  to  our  times.  We  have  been 
transferred  from  the  stock  of  Europe,  in  a  comparatively  enlightened 
age,  and  our  civilization  and  improvement  date  back  as  early  as  her 
own.  Her  original  history  is,  also,  our  original  history  ;  and  if,  since 
the  moment  of  separation,  she  has  gone  ahead  of  us,  in  some  respects, 
it  may  be  said,  without  violating  truth,  that  we  have  kept  up  in  others, 
and,  in  others  again,  are  ahead  ourselves.  We  are  to  legislate,  then, 
with  regard  to  the  present  actual  state  of  society  ;  and  our  own  ex 
perience  shews  us  that,  commencing  manufactures  at  the  present 
highly  enlightened  and  emulous  moment,  we  need  not  imitate  the 
clumsy  helps,  with  which,  in  less  auspicious  times,  governments  have; 
sought  to  enable  the  ingenuity  and  industry  of  their  people  to  hob 
ble  along. 

The  English  cotton  manufactures  began  about  the   commencement 
of  the  last  reign.     Ours  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  commenced,  with 
any  earnestness,  until  the  application  of  the  power  loom,  in  1816,  not 
more  than  eight  years  ago.     Now,  sir,  I  hardly  need  again  speak   ol 
its  progress,  its  present  extent,  or  its  assurance   of  future   enlarge 
ment.     In  some  sorts  of  fabricks  we  are  already  exporters,  and    the" 
products  of  our  manufactories  are,  at  this  moment,  in  the  South  Ame 
rican  markets.     We  see,  then,  what  can  be  done  without  prohibition1 
or  extraordinary  protection,  because  we  see  what  has  been  done;   and;: 
f  venture  to  predict  that,  in  a  few  years,  it  will  be  thought  woriderfuf' 


36 

that  these  branches  of  manufactures,  at  least,  should  have  been  thought 
to  require  additional  aid  from  government. 

Mr.  Chairman  :  The  best  apology  for  laws  of  prohibition  and  laws 
of  monopoly,  will  be  found  in  mat  state  of  society,  not  only  unenlight 
ened,  but  sluggish,  in  which  they  are  most  generally  established.  Pri 
vate  industry,  in  those  days,  required  strong  provocatives,  which  go 
vernments  were  seeking  to  administer  by  these  means.  Something 
was  wanted  to  actuate  and  stimulate  men,  and  the  prospects  of  such 
profits  as  would,  in  our  times,  excite  unbounded  competition,  would 
nardly  move  the  sloth  of  former  ages.  In  some  instances,  no  doubt, 
these  laws  produced  an  effect,  which,  in  that  period,  would  not  have 
taken  place  without  them.  But  our  age  is  wholly  of  a  different  charac 
ter,  and  its  legislation  takes  another  turn.  Society  is  full  of  excite 
ment;  competition  comes  in  place  of  monopoly;  and  intelligence  and 
industry  ask  only  for  fair  play  and  an  open  field.  Profits,  indeed,  in 
such  a  state  of  things,  will  be  small,  but  they  will  be  extensively  dif 
fused;  prices  will  be  low',  and  the  great  body  of  the  people  prosperous 
and  happy.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that,  from  the  operation  of  these 
causes,  commercial  wealth,  while  it  is  increased  beyond  calculation 
in  its  general  aggregate,  is,  at  the  same  time,  broken  and  diminished  in 
its  subdivisions.  Commercial  prosperity  should  be  judged  of  therefore 
rather  from  the  extent  of  trade,  than  from  the  magnitude  of  its  apparent 
profits.  It  has  been  remarked,  that  Spain,  certainly  one  of  the  poorest 
nations,  made  very  great  profits  on  the  amount  of  her  trade;  but  with 
little  other  benefit  than  the  enriching  of  a  few  individuals  and  com 
panies.  Profits  to  the  English  merchants  engaged  in  the  Levant  and 
Turkey  trade,  were  formerly  very  great,  and  there  were  richer  mer 
chants  in  England  some  centuries  ago,  considering  the  comparative 
value  of  money,  than  at  the  present  highly  commercial  period.  When 
the  diminution  of  profits  arises  from  the  extent  of  competition,  it  indi 
cates  rather  a  salutary  than  an  injurious  change.* 

The  true  course  then,  Sir,  for  us  to  pursue,  is,  in  my  opinion,  to 
consider  what  our  situation  is;  what  our  means  are;  and  how  they  can 
be  best  applied.  What  amount  of  population  have  we,  in  comparison 
with  our  extent  of  soil,  what  amount  of  capital,  and  labor  at  what 
price?  As  to  skill,  knowledge,  and  enterprise,  we  may  safely  take  it 
for  granted,  that,  in  these  particulars,  we  are  on  an  equality  with 
others.  Keeping  these  considerations  in  view,  allow  me  to  examine 
two  or  three  of  those  provisions  of  the  bill  to  which  I  feel  the  strong 
est  objections. 

*  "  The  present  equable  diffusion  of  moderate  wealth  cannot  be  better  illus 
trated,  than  by  remarking-  that  in  this  age  many  palaces  and  superb  mansions 
have  been  pulled  down,  or  converted  to  other  purposes,  while  none  have  been 
erected  on  a  like  scale.  The  numberless  baronial  oastles  and  mansions,  in  all 
parts  of  England,  now  in  ruins,  may  all  be  adduced  as  examples  of  the  decrease 
of  inordinate  wealth.  On  the  other  hand,  the  multiplication  of  commodious 
dwellings,  for  the  upper  and  middle  classes  of  society,  and  the  increased  com 
forts  of  all  ranks,  exhibit  a  picture  of  individual  happiness,  unknown  in  any  other 
•  -&Vs?te's  Letter  to  Lord  Spencer,  in  1800. 


87 

To  begin  with  the  article  of  iron.    Our  whole  annual  consumption 
of  tliis  article  is  supposed  by  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee,  to  be 
48,000  or  50,000  tons.     Let  us  suppose  the  latter.     The  amount  of 
our  own  manufacture  he  estimates,  I  think,  at  17,000  tons.    The  pre 
sent  duty  on  the  imported  article,  is  $15  per  ton,  and  as  this  duty 
causes  of  course  an  equivalent  augmentation  of  the  price  of  the  home 
manufacture,  the  whole  increase  of  price  is  equal  to  8750,000  annu 
ally.    This  sum  we  pay  on  a  raw  material,  and  on  an  absolute  neces 
sary  of  life.   The  Billproposes  to  raise  the  duty  from  $15  to  $22  50 
JMJF  ton,  which  would   be  equal  to  $1,125,000  on  the  whole  annual 
consumption.     So  that,  suppose  the   point  of  prohibition  which    is 
aimed  at  by  some  gentlemen  to  be  attained,  the  consumers  of  the  ar 
ticle  wonld  pay  this*  last  mentioned  sum  every  year  to  the  producers 
of  it,  over  anil  above  the  price  at  which  they  could  supply  themselves 
with  the  same  article  from  other  sources.     There  would  be  no  miti 
gation  of  this  burthen,  except  from  the  prospect,  whatever  that  might 
be,  that  iron  would  fall  in  value,  by  domestic  competition,  after  the 
importation  should  be  prohibited.     It  will  be  easy,  1  think,  to  shew, 
that  it  cannot  fall;  and  supposing  for  the  present  that  it  shall  not,  the 
result  will  be,  that  we  shall  pay  annually  a  sum  of  8  1,125.000,   con 
stantly  augmented,  too,  by  increased  consumption  of  the  article,  to  sup 
port  a  business  that  cannot  support  itself  .     Xt  is  of  no  consequence  to 
the  argument,  that  this  sum   is  expended  at  home;  so  it  would  be,  it 
we  taxed  the  people  to   support  any  other  useless  and  expensive  es 
tablishment,  to  build  another  Capitol  for  example,  or   incur  an  un 
necessary  expense  of  any  sort.     The  question  still  is,  are  the  money, 
time,  and  labor,  well  laid  out  in  these  cases?    The  present   price  of 
iron  at  Stockholm,  I  am  assured  by  importers,  is    &  53  per  ton  on 
board,  $48  in  the  yard  before  loading,  and  probably  not  far  from  $40 
at  the  mines.     Freight,  insurance,  £c.  may  be  fairly  estimated  at  S 15, 
to  which  add  our  present  duty  of  $  15  more,  and  these  two  last  sums, 
together  with  the  cost  on  board  at  Stockholm,  give  $  83  as  the  cost  of 
Swedes  iron  in  our  market.     In  fact  it  is  said  to  have  been  sold   last 
year  at  $81  50  to  $82  per  ton.     We  perceive,  by  this  statement, 
that  the  cost  of  the  iron  is  doubled  in  reaching  us  from  the  mine  in 
which  it  is  produced.     In  other  words,  our  present  duty  with  the  ex 
pense  of  transportation,  gives  an  advantage  to  the  American,  over  the 
foreign  manufacturer,  of  one  hundred  per  cent.  "Why  then  cannot  the 
iron  be  manufactured  at  home?     Our  ore  is  said  to  be  as  good,  and 
some  of  it  better.     It  is  under  our  feet,  and  the  chairman  of  the  com 
mittee  tells  us,  that  it  might  be  wrought  by  persons  who  otherwise 
will  not  be  employed.     Why  then  is  it  not  wrought?  r  Nothing  could 
be  more  sure  of  constant  sale.     It  is  not  an  article  of  changeable 
fashion,  but  of  absolute,  permanent  necessity,  and  such,  therefore,  as 
would  always  meet  a  steady  demand.     Sir,  I  think  it  would  be  well 
for  the  chairman  of  the  committee  to  revise  his   premises,  for  I  am 
persuaded  that  there  is  an  ingredient  properly  belonging  to  the  calcula 
tion  which  he  has  misstated  or  omitted.  Swede*  iron  in  England  pays  a 

duty,  I  think,  of  about  $27  per  ton:  yet  it  is  imported  in  considerable 


quantities,  notwithstanding  the  vast  capital,  the  excellent  coal,  and, 
more  important  than  all  perhaps,  the  highly  improved  state  of  inland 
navigation  in  England;  although  I  am  aware  that  the  English  use  of 
Swedes  iron  may  be  thought  to  be  owing  in  some  degree  to  its  su 
perior  quality. 

Sir,  the  true  explanation  of  this,  appears  to  me  to  lie  in  the  different 
prices  of  labor;  and  here  I  apprehend  is  the  grand  mistake  in  the 
argument  of  the  chairman  of  the  committee.  He  says  it  would  cost 
the  nation,  as  a  nation,  nothing,  to  make  our  ore  into  iron.  Now,  I 
think  it  would  cost  us  precisely  that  which  we  can  worst  afford;  that 
is,  great  labor.  Although  bar  iron  is  very  properly  considered  a  raw 
material  in  respect  to  its  various  future  uses;  yet,  as  bar  iron,  the 
principal  ingredient  in  its  cost  is  labor.  Of  manual  labor,  no  nation 
has  more  than  a  certain  quantity,  nor  can  it  be  increased  at  will.  As 
to  some  operations,  indeed,  its  place  may  be  supplied  by  machinery; 
but  there  are  other  services  which  machinery  cannot  perform  for  it, 
and  which  it  must  perform  for  itself.  A  most  important  question  for 
every  nation,  as  well  as  for  every  individual  to  propose  to  itself,  is,  how 
it  can  best  apply  that  quantity'of  labor  which  it  is  able  to  perform? 
Labor  is  the  great  producer  of  wealth;  it  moves  all  other  causes.  If 
it  call  machinery  to  its  aid,  it  is  still  employed  not  only  in  using  the 
machinery,  but  in  making  it.  Now,  with  respect  to  the  quantity  of 
labor,  as  we  all  know,  different  nations  are  differently  circumstanced. 
Some  need,  more  than  any  thing,  work  for  hands,  others  require  hands 
for  work;  and  if  we  ourselves  are  not  absolutely  in  the  latter  class, 
we  are  still,  most  fortunately,  very  near  it.  T  cannot  find  that  we 
have  those  idle  hands,  of  which  the  chairman  of  the  committee  speaks. 
The  price  of  labor  is  a  conclusive  and  unanswerable  refutation  of  that 
idea;  it  is  known  to  be  higher  with  us  than  in  any  other  civilized 
state,  and  this  is  the  greatest  of  all  proofs  of  general  happiness.  La 
bor  in  'his  country  is  independent  and  proud.  It  has  not  to  ask  the 
patronage  of  capital,  but  capital  solicits  the  aid  of  labor.  This  is 
the  general  truth,  in  regard  to  the  condition  of  our  whole  population, 
although  in  the  large  cities  there  are,  doubtless,  many  exceptions. 
The  mere  capacity  to  labor  in  common  agricultural  employments, 
gives  to 'our  young  men  the  assurance  of  independence.  We  have 
been  asked,  Sir,  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee,  in  a  tone  of  some 
pathos,  whether  we  will  allow  to  the  serfs  of  Russia  and  Sweden  the 
benefit  of  making  iron  for  us?  Let  me  inform  the  gentleman,  Sir,  that 
those  same  serfs  do  not  earn  mote  than  seven  cents  a  day,  and  that 
they  work  in  these  mines,  for  that  compensation,  because  they  are 
serfs.  And  let  me  ask  the  gentleman  further,  whether  we  have 
any  labor  in  this  country  that  cannot  be  better  employed  than  in  a 
business  which  does  not  yield  the  laborer  more  than  seven  cents  a  day? 
This,  it  appears  to  me,  is  the  true  question  for  our  considera 
tion.  There  is  no  reason  for  saying  that  we  will  work  iron  be* 
because  we  have  mountains  that  contain  the  ore.  We  might  for  the 
same  reason  dig  among  our  rocks  for  the  scattered  grains  of  gold  and 
silver  which  might  be  found  there.  The  true  inquiry  is,  can  we  pro- 


39 


duce  the  article  in  a  useful  state  at  the  same  cos/,  or  marly  at  the  same 
cost,  or  at  any  reasonable  approximation  towards  the  same  cost,  at 
which  we  can  import  it. 

Some  general  estimates  of  the  price  and  profits  of  labor,  in  those 
countries  trom  which  we  import  our  iron,  might  be  formed  by 
comparing  the  reputed  products  of  different  mines,  and  their  prices, 
with  the  number  of  hands  employed.  The  mines  of  Danemora  are 
said  to  yield  about  4000  tons,  and  to  employ  in  the  mines  twelve 
hundred  workmen.  Suppose  this  to  be  worth  50  dollars  per  ton;  any 
one  will  find  by  computation  that  the  whole  product  would  not  pay  in 
this  country,  tor  one  quarter  part  of  the  necessary  labor.  The  whole 
export  of  Sweden  was  estimated,  a  few  years  ago,  at  400,000  ship- 
pounds,  or  about  54,000  tons.  Comparing  this  product  with  the 
number  of  workmen  usually  supposed  to  be  employed  in  the  mines 
which  produce  iron  for  exportation,  the  result  will  not  greatly  differ 
from  the  foregoing.  These  estimates  are  general,  and  might  not  con 
duct  us  to  a  precise  result;  but  we  know,  from  intelligent  travellers, 
and  eye-witnesses,  that  the  price  of  labor  in  the  Swedish  mines,  does 
not  exceed  seven  cents  a  day.* 

The  true  reason,  Sir,  why  it  is  not  our  policy  to  compel  our  citi 
zens  to  manufacture  our  own  iron,  is,  that  they  are  far  better  em 
ployed.  It  is  an  unproductive  business,  and  they  are  not  poor 
enough  to  be  obliged  to  follow  it.  If  we  had  more  of  poverty,  more 
of  misery,  and  something  of  servitude,  if  we  had  an  ignorant,  idle 
starving  population,  we  might  setup  for  iron  makers  against  the  world. 

The  committee  will  take  notice,  Mr.  Chairman,  that,  under  our  pre 
sent  duty,  together  with  the  expense  of  transportation,  our  manufac 
turers  are  able  to  supply  their  own  immediate  neighborhood  $  and  this 
proves  the  magnitude  of  that  substantial  encouragement  which  these 
two  causes  concur  to  give.  There  is  little  or  no  foreign  iron,  I  pre 
sume,  used  in  the  county  of  Lancaster.  This  is  owing  to  the  heavy 
expense  of  land  carriage;  and,  as  we  recede  farther  from  the  coast,  the 
manufacturers  are  still  more  completely  secured,  as  to  their  own  im 
mediate  market,  against  the  competition  of  the  imported  article.  But 
what  they  ask  is  to  be  allowed  to  supply  the  seacoast,  at  such  a  price  as 
shall  be  formed  by  adding  to  the  cost  at  the  mines  the  expense  of  land 
carriage  to  the  sea;  and  this  appears  to  me  most  unreasonable.  The 

*  The  price  of  labor  in  Russia  may  be  pretty  well  collected  from 
Tooke's  "  View  of  the  Russian  Empire."  "  The  workmen  in  the  mines  and  the 
"  founderies  are,  indeed,  all  called  master-people;  but  they  distinguish  them- 
"  selves  into  masters,  undermasters,  apprentices,  delvers,  servants,  carriers, 
"  washers,  and  separators.  In  proportion  to  their  ability  their  vf  ages  are  re- 
"  gnlated,  which  proceed  from  15  to  upwards  of  30  roubles  per  annum.  The 
"  provisions  which  they  receive  from  the  magazines  are  deducted  from  this 
"  pay."  The  value  of  the  rouble  at  that  time  (1799)  was  about  24  pence  ster 
ling,  o  r45  cents  of  our  money. 

"  By  the  edict  of  1799,"  it  is  added,  "a  laborer  with  a  horse  shall  receive, 
"  daily,  in  summer,  20,  and  in  winter  12  copecks;  a  laborer,  without  a  horse, 
"  in  summer,  10,  in  winter,  8,  copecks." 

A  copeck  is  the  hundreth  part  of  a  rouble,  or  about  half  a  cent  of  our  money. 
The  price  of  labour  may  have  risen,  in  some  degree,  since  that  period,  but  proba 
bly  not  much. 


40 

effect  of  it  would  be  to  compel  the  consumer  to  pay  the  cost  of  two 
land  transportations;  for,  in  the  first  place,  the  price  of  iron,  at  the 
inland  furnaces,  will  always  he  found  to  be  at,  or  not  much  below,  the 
price  of  the  imported  article  in  the  seaport,  and  the  cost  of  transporta 
tion  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  furnace;  and  to  enable  the  home  pro 
duct  to  hold  a  competition  with  the  imported  in  the  seaport,  the  cost 
of  another  transportation  downward,  from  the  furnace  to  the  coast, 
must  be  added.  Until  our  means  of  inland  commerce  be  improved, 
and  the  charges  of  transportation  by  that  means  lessened,  it  appears 
to  me  wholly  impracticable,  with  such  duties  as  any  one  would  think 
of  proposing,  to  meet  the  wishes  of  the  manufacturers  of  this  article. 
Suppose  we  were  to  add  the  duty  proposed  by  this  bill,  although  it 
would  benefit  the  capital  invested  in  works  near  the  sea,  and  the  navi- 

fable  rivers,  yet  the  benefit  would  not  extend  far  in  the   interior. 
Vhere,  then,  are  we  to  stop,  or  what  limit  is  proposed  to  us? 

The  freight  of  iron  has  been  afforded  from  Sweden  to  the  United 
States  as  low  as  eight  dollars  per  ton.  This  is  not  more  than  the 
price  of  fifty  miles  land  carriage.  Stockholm,  therefore,  for  the  pur 
pose  of  this  argument,  may  be  considered  as  within  fifty  miles  of  Phi 
ladelphia.  Now,  it  is  at  once  a  just  and  a  strong  view  of  this  case,  to 
consider,  that  there  are,  within  fifty  miles  of  our  market,  vast  multi 
tudes  of  persons  who  are  willing  to  labor  iki  the  production  of  this  ar 
ticle  for  us,  at  the  rate  of  seven  cents  per  day,  while  we  have  no  labor 
which  will  not  command,  upon  the  average,  at  least  five  or  six  times 
that  amount.  The  question  is,  then,  shall  we  buy  this  article  of  these 
manufacturers,  and  suffer  our  own  labor  to  earn  its  greater  reward,  or 
shall  we  employ  our  own  labor  in  a  similar  manufacture,  and  make  up 
to  it,  by  a  tax  on  consumers,  the  loss  which  it  must  necessarily  sus 
tain. 

1  proceed,  sir,  to  the  article  of  hemp.  Of  this  we  imported  last 
year,  in  round  numbers,  6,000  tons,  paying  a  duty  of  &30  a  ton,  or 
$1 80,000  on  the  whole  amount;  and  this  article,  it  is  to  be  remem 
bered,  is  consumed  almost  entirely  in  the  uses  of  navigation.  The 
whole  burthen  may  be  said  to  fall  on  one  interest.  It  is  said  we  can. 
produce  this  article  if  we  will  raise  the  duties.  But  why  is  it  not  pro 
duced  now;  or  why,  at  least,  have  we  not  seen  some  specimens?  for 
the  present  is  a  very  high  duty,  when  expenses  of  importation  are 
added.  Hemp  was  purchased  at  St.  Petersburg,  last  year,  at  S101  6? 
per  ton.  Charges  attending  shipment,  &c.  $14  25.  Freight  may  be 
stated  at  830  per  ton,  and  our  existing  duty  is  &30  more.  These 
three  last  sums,  being  the  charges  of  transportation,  amount  to  a  pro 
tection  of  near  75  per  cent,  in  favor  of  the  home  manufacturer,  if  there 
were  any  such.  And  we  ought  to  consider,  also,  that  the  price  of 
hemp  at  St.  Petersburg  is  increased  by  all  the  expense  of  transporta 
tion  from  the  place  of  growth  to  that  port;  so  that  probably  the  whole, 
cost  of  transportation,  from  the  place  of  growth  to  our  market,  includ 
ing  our  duty,  is  equal  to  the  first  cost  of  the  article;  or,  in  other  words, 
?s  a  protection  in  favor  of  our  own  product  of  100  per  cent. 


41 

And  since  it  is  stated  that  we  have  great  quantities  of  fine  land 
for  the  production  of  hemp,  of  which  I  have  no  doubt,  the  question  re 
curs,  why  is  it  not  produced?  I  speak  of  the  water  rotted  hemp,  for  it 
is  admitted  that  that  which  is  dew  rotted  is  not  sufficiently  good  for 
the  requisite  purposes.  I  cannot  say  whether  the  cause  be  in  climate, 
in  the  process  of  rotting,  or  what  else,  but  the  fact  is  certain,  that  there 
is  no  American  water  rotted  hemp  in  the  market.  We  are  acting, 
therefore,  upon  a  hypothesis.  Is  it  not  reasonable  that  those  who  say 
that  they  can  produce  the  article,  shall  at  least  prove  the  truth  of  that 
allegation  before  new  taxes  are  laid  en  those  who  use  the  foreign  com 
modity?  Suppose  this  bill  passes:  the  price  of  hemp  is  immediately 
raised'  g!4  80  per  ton,  and  this  burden  falls  immediately  on  the  ship 
builder;  and  no  part  of  it,  for  the  present,  will  go  for  the  benefit  of  the 
American  grower,  because  he  has  none  of  the  article  that  can  be  used, 
nor  is  it  expected  that  much  of  it  will  be  produced  for  a  considerable 
time.  Still  the  tax  takes  effect  upon  the  imported  article;  and  the 
ship  owners,  to  enable  the  Kentucky  farmer  to  receive  an  additional 
&14  on  his  ton  of  hemp,  whenever  he  may  be  able  to  raise  and  manufac 
ture  it,  pay,  in  the  mean  time,  an  equal  sum  per  ton  into  the  Treasu 
ry  on  all  the  imported  hemp  which  they  are  still  obliged  to  use;  and 
this  is  called  <l  protection!"  Is  this  just  or  fair?  A  particular  inter 
est  is  here  burdened,  not  only  for  the  benefit  of  another  particular  in 
terest,  but  burdened  also  beyond  that,  for  the  benefit  of  the  Treasury. 
It  is  said  to  be  important  for  the  country  that  this  article  should  be 
raised  in  it;  then,  let  the  country  bear  the  expense,  and  pay  the  boun 
ty.  If  it  be  for  the  good  of  the  whole,  let  the  sacrifice  be  made  by  the 
whole,  and  not  by  a  part.  If  it  be  thought  useful  and  necessary,  from 
political  considerations,  to  encourage  the  growth  and  manufacture  of 
hemp,  government  has  abundant  means  of  doing  it.  It  might  give  a 
direct  bounty,  and  such  a  measure  would,  at  least,  distribute  the  bur 
den  equally;  or,  as  government  itself  is  a  great  consumer  of  this  arti 
cle,  it  might  stipulate  to  confine  its  own  purchases  to  the  home  pro 
duct,  so  soon  as  it  should  be  shewn  to  be  of  the  proper  quality.  I  see 
no  objection  to  this  proceeding,  if  it  be  thought  to  be  an  object  to  en 
courage  the  production.  It  might  easily,  and  perhaps  properly,  be 
provided,  by  law,  that  the  Navy  should  be  supplied  with  American 
hemp,  the  quality  being  good,  at  any  price  not  exceeding,  by  more 
than  a  given  amount,  the  current  price  of  foreign  hemp  in  our  market. 
Every  thing  conspires  to  render  some  such  course  preferable  to  the 
one  now  proposed.  The  encouragement  in  that  wa^  would  be  ample, 
and,  if  the  experiment  should  succeed,  the  whole  object  would  be 
gained;  and  if  it  should  fail,  no  considerable  loss  or  evil  would  be  felt 
by  any  one. 

I  stated,  some  days  ago,  and  I  wish  to  renew  the  statement,  what 
was  the  amount  of  the  proposed  augmentation  of  the  duties  on  iron 
and  hemp,  in  the  cost  of  a  vessel.  Take  the  case  of  a  common  ship, 
of  300  tons,  not  coppered,  nor  copper  fastened.  It  would  stand 
thus,  by  the  present  duties: 


42 

14|  Tons  of  iron,  for  hull,  rigging,  and  anchors,  at  815  per 

ton 

10  Tons  of  hemp,  at  830      -  30000 

40  Bolts  Russia  duck,  at  g2  80  00 

20  Bolts  Ravens  duck,  at  §1  25                                 .  25  00 

Chi  articles  of  ship  chandlery,  cabin  furniture,  hardware,  &c.  40  00 


8662  50 

The  bill  proposes  to  add  i 

$7  40  per  ton  on  iron,  which  will  be     *  S1Q7  SO 

g  14  80  per  ton  on  hemp,  equal  to  -  148  00 

/Vnd  on  duck,  by  the  late  amendment  of  the   bill,  say  25 

percent  -  25  00 

55  280  30 


But,  to  the  duties  on  iron  and  hemp,  should  be  added  those  paid  oft 
copper,  whenever  that  article  is  used.  By  the  statement  which  I  fur 
nished  the  other  day,  it  appeared  that  the  duties  received  by  govern 
ment,  on  articles  used  in  the  construction  of  a  vessel  of  359  tons,  with 
copper  fastenings,  amounted  to  81056.  With  the  augmentations  of 
this  Bill,  they  would  be  equal  to  §1400.  Now,  I  cannot  but  flatter 
myself,  Mr.  Chairman,  that,  before  the  committee  will  consent  to  this 
new  burthen  upon  the  shipping  interest,  it  will  very  deliberately  weigh 
the  probable  consequences.  I  would  again  urgently  solicit  its  atten 
tion  to  the  condition  of  (hat  interest.  We  are  told  that  Government 
has  protected  it,  by  discriminating  duties,  and  by  an  exclusive  right 
to  the  coasting  trade.  But  it  would  retain  the  coasting  trade,  by  its 
own  natural  efforts,  in  like  manner,  and  with  more  certainty,  than  it 
BOW  retains  any  portion  of  foreign  trade.  The  discriminating  duties 
are  now  abolished,  and  while  they  existed,  they  were  nothing  more 
than  countervailing  measures;  not  so  much  designed  to  give  our  navi 
gation  an  advantage  over  that  of  other  nations,  as  to  put  it  upon  an 
equality;  and  we  have,  accordingly,  abolished  ours,  when  they  have 
been  willing  to  abolish  theirs.  Look  to  the  rate  of  freights.  Were 
they  ever  lower,  or  even  so  low?  Task  gentlemen  who  know,  whe 
ther  the  harbor  of  Charleston,  and  the  river  of  Savannah,  be  not  crowd 
ed  with  ships  seeking  employment,  and  finding  none?  I  would  ask 
th"  gentlemen  from  New  Orleans,  if  their  magnificent  Mississippi  do 
n  n  exhibit,  for  furlongs,  a  forest  of  masts?  The  condition,  Sir,  of 
the  shipping  interest  is  not  that  of  those  who  are  insisting  on  high 
profits,  or  struggling  for  monopoly;  but  it  is  the  condition  of  men  con 
tent  with  the  smallest  earnings,  and  anxious  for  their  bread.  The 
freight  of  cotton  has  formerly  been  three  pence  sterling,  from  Charles 
ton  to  Liverpool,  in  time  of  peace.  It  is  now  I  know  not  what,  or 
how  many,  fractions  of  a  penny;  I  think,  however,  it  is  stated  atfive- 
eightlrs.  The  producers,  then,  of  this  great  staple,  are  able,  by  means 


i-i 

ttrf  this  11  a vi <ration,  to  send  it,  for  a  cent  a  pound.  iVosn  Iheir  own  «; 
to  the  best  market  in  the  world. 

Mr.  Chairman,l  Mill  now  wily  remind  tlv  committee  that,  while  we 
are  proposing  to  add  now  burthens  to  theebifpii^g  interest.  :<  very  dif 
ferent  line  of  policy  is  followed  by  our  threat  commercial  and  niaiitii  »e 
rival.  It  seems  to  be  announced  as  the  sentiment  of  the  (jovern\m*nt  of 
England, and  undoubtedly  it  is  its  real  sentiment,  that  the  first  of  all  ma 
nufactures  is  the  manufacture  of  ships.  A  constant  and  wakeful  at  ten  • 
tion  is  paid  to  this  interest,  a  d  very  important  regulations,  favorable 
to  it,  have  been  adopted  within  the  last  year,  some  of  which  I  will  beg 
leave  to  refer  to,  with  the  hope  of  exciting  the  notice,  not  only  of  the 
committee,  but  of  all  others  who  may  feel,  as  I  do,  a  deep  interest  in 
this  subject.  In  the  first  place,  a  general  amendment  has  taken  place 
in  the  register  acts,  introducing  many  new  provisions,  and,  among 
others,  the  following: 

A  direct  mortgage  of  the  interest  of  a  ship  is  allowed,  without  sub 
jecting  the  mortgagee  to  the  responsibility  of  an  owner. 

The  proportion  of  interest  held  by  each  owner  is  exhibited  in  the 
register,  thereby  facilitating  both  sales  and  mortgages,  and  giving  a 
new  value  to  shipping  among  the  monied  classes. 

Shares,  in  the  ships  of  copartnerships,  may  be  registered  as  joint 
property,  and  subject  to  the  same  rules  as  other  partnership  effect*. 

Ships  may  be  registered  in  the  name  of  trustees,  for  the  benefit  of 
joint  stock  companies;  arid  many  other  regulations  are  adopted  with 
the  same  general  view  of  rendering  the  mode  of  holding  the  property 
as  convenient  and  as  favourable  as  possible. 

By  another  act,  British  registered  vessels,  of  every  description,  ;ire 
allowed  to  enter  into  the  general  and  the  coasting  trade  in  tiie  India 
seas,  and  may  now  trade  to  and  from  India,  with  any  part  of  the 
world,  except  China. 

By  a  third,  all  limitations  and  restrictions,  as  to  latitude  and  longi 
tude,  are  removed  from  ships  engaged  in  the  Southern  whale  fishery. 
These  regulations,  I  presume,  have  not  been  made  without  first  obtain 
ing  the  consent  of  the  Kast  India  Company;  so  true  is  it  found,  that 
real  encouragement  of  enterprise  oftener  consists,  in  our  days,  in  re 
straining  or  buyingoft'monopoliesand  prohibitions,  than  in  imposing  or 
extending  them. 

The  trade  with  Ireland  is  turned  into  a  free  coasting  trade;  light- 
duties  have  been  reduced,  and  various  other  beneficial  arrangements 
made,  and  still  others  proposed.  I  might  add,  that,  in  favor  of  gene 
ral  cVinmerce,  and  as  shewing  their  confidence  in  the  principles  of  libe 
ral  intercourse,  the  British  government  has  perfected  the  warehouse 
system,  and  authorised  a  reciprocity  of  duties  with  foreign  states,  at 
the  discretion  of  the  Privy  Council. 

This,  sir,  is  the  attention  which  our  great  rival  is  paying  to  these 
important  subjects,  and  we  may  assure  ourselves  that,  if  we  do  not 
keep  alive  a  proper  sense  of  our  own  interests,  she  will  not  only  beat 
us,  but  will  ilcseive  to  beat  us. 

Sir,  I  will  detain  you  no  longer.  There  are  some  parts  of  this  Bill 
which  I  highly  approve;  there  are  others  in  which  I  should  acquiesce; 


\ 
44 

but  those  to  which  I  have  now  stated  my  objections  appear  to  me  so 
destitute  of  all  justice,  so  burthensome  and  so  dangerous  to  that  in 
terest  which  has  steadily  enriched,  gallantly  defended,  and  proudly 
distinguished  us,  that  nothing  can  prevail  upon  me  to  give  it  my  sup 
port. 


45 


NOTE. 

Since  the  delivery  of  this  Speech,  an  arrival  has  brought  London 
papers  containing  the  Speech  of  the  English  Chancellor  ot  the  Exche 
quer,  (Mr.  Robinson,)  on  the  23d  February  last,  in  submitting  to 
Parliament  the  Annual  Financial  Statement.  The  author  hopes  he 
may  be  pardoned  for  adding  the  following  extract  from  that  Speech, 
as  showing,  pretty  clearly,  whether  he  was  right,  in  his  representation 
of  the  prevailing  sentiment,  in  the  English  Government,  on  the  ge 
neral  subject  of  prohibitory  laws,  and  on  the  silk  manufacture,  and 
the  wool  tax,  particularly. 

"  In  the  earlier  part  of  what  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of  addressing  to  the 
Committee,  I  alluded  to  that  portion  of  this  question  which  refers  to  a  more  free 
and  liberal  system  of  policy  in  matters  of  trade  To  this  division  of  the  subject, 
1  will  now  particularly  invite  attention.  There  are,  as  of  course  Honorable 
Gentlemen  are  aware,  various  branches  of  our  commerce,  loaded  on  the  one 
hand  with  high  duties  upon  the  importation,  and  which,  in  an  opposite  direc 
tion,  are  encumbered  with  restrictions  and  prohibitions  of  different  kinds. 
Amongst  these  is  the  article  of  wool  v  Hear.)  As  the  law  now  stands,  (which, 
by  the  way,  as  far  as  duty  is  concerned,  is  of  very  recent  establishment,)  the 
duty  is  6d  per  lb.;  it  was  originally  one  penny.  This  duty  was  imposed  in  the 
year  1119,  not  at  all,  as  has  been  often  in  my  opinion,  and  indeed  in  the  opinion 
also  of  my  noble  friend  at  the  head  of  the  Treasury,  very  inaccurately  stated,  for 
the  purpose  of  protection,  but  merely  with  a  view  to  the  increase  of  the  revenue. 
But  the  parties  interested,  and  who  sought  the  abrogation  of  this  law,  were  al 
ways  told:  "  You  have  no  right  to  object  to  that  duty,  so  long  as  you  require 
that  the  produce  of  the  British  wool-grower  should  be  confined  to  the  consump 
tion  of  this  country,"  (Hear.)  It  was  never  concealed,  either  in  this  House,  or 
from  the  persons  engaged  in  the  trade;  we  constantly  said,  "If  you  will  consent 
to  the  removal  of  that  impolitic  restriction,  as  we  consider  it,  upon  the  export  of 
British  wool,  we  will  propose  in  Parliament  the  repeal  of  the  duty."  The  dis 
cussion  of  this  subject  led  to  a  good  deal  of  communication,  in  the  last  year, 
with  the  manufacturing  interests,  in  different  parts  of  the  country:  they  held 
meetings,  at  which  various  resolutions  were  adopted:  as  may  be  supposed,  it  was 
found  in  the  result,  that  there  existed  a  discordance  of  opinion  on  the  question 
at  issue.  Some  were  disposed  to  think  that  the  repeal  of  the  duty  would  be 
less  of  a  benefit  to  them,  than  the  removal  of  the  restriction  would  be  an  evil; 
they  were  therefore  desirous  that  the  matter  should  be  left  just  as  it  stands,  and 
that  no  alteration  should  be  made;  they  were  anxious  indeed  to  get  rid  of  the 
duty,  but  not  at  the  expense  of  the  loss  of  the  protection  they  imagined  the  re 
striction  afforded  them.  Undoubtedly,  however,  a  majority,  1  may  say  a  decid 
ed  majority,  of  the  interests  concerned  in  the  woollen  trade,  were  of  opinion, 
that  it  would  be  beneficial  to  them  to  accede  to  that  sort  of  compromise,  that 
the  duty  should  be  repealed,  and  a  free  export  of  the  article  permitted.  I  con 
fess,  on  the  best  and  most  deliberate  view  I  have  been  able  to  take  of  the  sub 
ject,  I  cannot  see  what  reasonable  objection  there  can  be  to  adopt  such  a  plan. 
(Hear,  hear.)  Certainly,  a  part  of  the  plan  I  shall  submit  to  Parliament,  will 
be,  to  reduce  the  duty  on  foreign  wool,  from  6d.  per  pound,  which  it  is  at  pre 
sent,  to  Id.  per  pound,  as  it  was  originally  before  the  bill  of  1819.  I  shall  then 
.recommend  that  British  wool  be  allowed  to  be  exported,  on  the  payment  of  a 
small  duty  of  Id.  also,  to  put  them  upon  a  level,  and  to  keep  the  balance  even 
between  the  two.  Thus  shall  we  sweep  away  needless,  and,  as  1  think,  injuri- 


cms  statutes  of  restriction,  and  not  merely  those,  but  penalties,  oaths,  and  Hea 
ven  knows  what  besides.  (Hear,  hear.)  All  of  these  are  exceedingly  incon 
venient,  and,  what  is  more,  they  do  no  possible  good.  Thus,  the  whole  trade 
will  be  put  upon  a  footing1,  which,  I  am  quite  confident,  will  turn  out  to  be 
most  beneficial  to  both  parties— the  grower  of  British  wool  and  the  manufac 
turer  of  the  foreign  article.  On  that  matter  I  feel  none  of  the  apprehensions 
which  at  times  have  been  expressed  by  both  parties.  I  am  satisfied  that  the 
consequence  of  the  change  will  be  a  great  extension  of  our  woollen  trade  to 
every  quarter  of  the  world;  and  it  is  beyond  my  comprehension  to  imagine  how 
such  a  state  of  things  can  be  otherwise  than  advantageous  to  those  who  sell  the 
raw  material— (Hear!)— therefore  I  see  nothing  but  good  to  result  from  the  re 
peal  of  the  duty,  and  the  removal  of  the  restriction;  and  I  hope  that,  in  endea 
voring  to  accomplish  this  object,  I  shall  be  supported  by  the  House.  (Much 
cheering.)  The  loss  I  anticipate  to  the  revenue  from  such  a  proceeding,  is 
350,000/.  per  annum.  The  next  item  to  which  I  shall  call  the  attention  of  the 
Committee,  is  one  which,  1  own,  appears  to  be  of  paramount  importance  in  this 
view  of  the  subject.  I  mean  in  that  view  of  the  subject  which  relates  to  the  re 
moval  of  restrictions  I  allude  to  the  item  of  sill^:.  i  Hear.!  This  trade  is  thus 
circumstanced:  there  is  a  very  high  duty  on  the  raw  material,  and  a  positive  pro 
hibition  of  the  consumption  of  the  foreign  manufactured  article.  I  will,  with 
the  leave  of  the  Committee,  take  the  latter  first;  and,  in  the  outset,  I  should 
wish  to  ask,  where  is  the  advantage  of  retaining  the  prohibitory  system.  (  Hear, 
hear.)  Where  is  the  advantage  of  retaining  it,  looking  at  it  either  with  refer 
ence  to  our  intercourse  with  other  nations,  or  with  reference  to  our  own  do 
mestic  interests?  (Hear.)  For  some  years  past  there  has  certainly  prevailed 
in  this  country,  among  its  ablest  statesmen  and  our  most  eminent  writers,  I 
should  say,  indeed,  among  all  men  of  sense  and  reflection,  a  decided  conviction 
that  the  maintenance  of  this  prohibitory  system  is  exceedingly  impolitic.  We 
have  recently  made  a  certain  progress  towards  the  removal  of  the  evil.  Are  we 
to  stop  short?  If  we  do  stop  short,  what  will  foreign  nations  say,  and  justly  say, 
of  our  conduct?  Will  they  not  say,  that,  though  we  profess  liberality,  we  hate 
it  in  our  hearts?  that  we  have  been  endeavoring  to  cajole  them  to  almit  our 
own  manufactures  into  their  territories,  while  we  continue  rigidly  by  every 
means  in  our  power,  and  by  adhering  closely  to  an  antiquated  system,  to  exclude 
theirs?  When  our  practice  is  so  at  variance  with  our  professions,  it  is  impossi 
ble  that  they  should  give  any  credit  to  our  assertions.  Whenever  a  foreign 
state  imposes  a  new  duty  on  any  of  our  manufactures,  my  right  honorable  friend, 
the  President  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  is  assaulted  by  representations  from  all 
quarters;  instant  measures  are  to  be  adopted  to  get  the  duty  removed,  and  we 
are  to  remonstrate  with  the  foreign  power  against  its  continuance.  What  would 
be  the  consequence?  Our  Ambassador  is  instructed  to  state  to  the  foreign  court 
at  which  he  resides,  that  the  new  duty  imposed  is  very  injurious  to  British  in 
terests,  and  is  viewed  by  this  country  in  an  unfriendly  light.  The  answer  of 
the  foreign  minister  of  course  must  be — "  It  may  be  so;  we  cannot  help  it;  for 
how  can  we  admit  your  goods,  if  you  do  not  admit  ours?'*  With  such  a  reply, 
the  British  Ambassador  must  make  his  bow  and  retire,  discomfited  and  ashamed; 
and  I  defy  the  ingenuity  of  man  to  invent  an  argument  to  refute  the  powerful 
argumentum  ad  hominem  of  the  foreign  minis' er.  Other  countries  must  con 
clude  that  we  are  only  attempting  to  delude  them;  that  it  is  all  pretence 
and  hypocrisy  on  our  part;  and  that  we  do  not  really  beliere  that  there  is 
practical  soundness  in  the  principles  we  abstractedly  recommend  I  myself 
am  well  satisfied  of  the  practical  soundness  of  those  principles,  and  that 
we  ought  to  take  the  first  opportunity  of  adopting  them.  (Hear,  hear.)  There 
ne  '-r  was  so  favorable  an  opportunity  as  the  present  for  carrying  our  prin 
ciple*  i»to  effect,  and  for  inviting-  foreign  powers  to  act  in  accordance  with 
them.  Let  us  invite  them  to  join  with  us  in  cutting  the  cords  that  tie  down 
commerce  to  the  earth,  that  it  may  soar  aloft,  unconfined  and  unrestricted. 
(Hear,  hear.  >  If  ever  an  opportunity  for  accomplishing  this  great  good  was 
afforded,  it  is  the  moment  when  I  am  speaking  -and  for  God's  sake  let  us  em 
brace  it.  Are  not  our  manufactures  now  in  a  state  of  universalaetmty?  Is  not 


47 

every  thing  in  a  condition  of  improvement?  And  Is  not  capital  in  eager  searcU 
of  the  means  by  which  it  may  be  profitably  expended  ?  (Hear,  hear.)  We  have 
thus  the  finest  opportunity  for  emancipating  ourselves  from  ancient  prejudices* 
and  for  making  a  new  start  in  the  mce  of  wealth  and  prosperity.  (Hear,  hear.) 
On  these  grounds  1  am  anxious  to  propose  the  adoption  of  this  liberal  system. 
But  give  me  leave  to  ask,  if  there  are  not  many  others  independent  of  those 
merely  of  a  commercial  nature,  which  strongly  support  it?  In  the  first  place,  is 
it  not  perfectly  well  known,  that,  after  all,  these  prohibitions,  guard  them  and 
fence  them  with  laws  as  you  will,  are,  in  point  of  tact  evaded.  (Hear,  hear.)  I 
remember,  and  I  dare  say  many  others  have  not  forgotten,  \yhen  the  Hon.  Mem 
ber  for  Aberdeen,  last  year,  even  in  this  place,  produced  his  Bandana  handker 
chief:  he  triumphantly  unfurled  the  standard  of  smuggling;  he  hoisted,  as  it? 
were,  the  colors  of  opposition  to  the  Government  and  its  laws,  and  having  com 
placently  blown  his  nose  upon  them,  he  returned  them  to  his  pocket  (Cheering 
and  laughter.)  He  might  not  know  at  the  time,  though  1  reminded  him  of  it  af 
terwards,  that  there  was  not  a  gentleman  near  him  at  the  time  who  had  not  a 
right  to  take  possession  of  that  handkerchief  and  export  it  to  a  foreign  country. 
(.Hear.)  I  mention  this  fact  only  as  a  strong  practical  illustration  of  the  utter  im 
possibility  of  carrying  these  prohibitions  into  complete  effect.  Every  body  who 
has  been  on  some  parts  of  the  coast,  has  seen  foreign  vessels  coming  in  from 
the  neighboring  continent,  and  has,  no  doubt,  often  observed  females  step  out  of 
them,  apparently  of  the  most  uncomfortable  corpulency.  In  due  time,  and  with 
out  any  surgical  aid,  they  were  safely  delivered  of  their  burdens,  and  were  re 
stored  to  the  natural  slimness  of  their  graceful  figures.  (Laughter.)  Such  I  be 
lieve  to  be  a  very  common  practice;  and  there  is,  in  fact,  no  end  to  the  ingenuity 
of  the  devices  to  introduce  contraband  articles.  Not  only  ingenuity  is  displayed, 
but  fraud  and  crime— perjury,  and  every  possible  evil  moral  consequence.  We 
all  know,  that  crime  begets  crime;  that,  in  whatever  it  may  begin,  a  progenies 
-.'iti'jsior  always  springs  up;  Nemo  repenteftnt  titrpissimus;  and  a  man  who  begins 
as  a  smuggler  will  probably  end  as  something  much  worse.  Perhaps  he  smug 
gles  in  the  first  instance  only  with  the  innocent  purpose  of  making  a  present  to  a 
female  friend  or  relative;  but  when  a  man  is  accustomed  to  the  violation  of  the 
lnw,  he  will  not  find  it  very  difficult,  by  degrees,  to  go  further.  He  finds  that  he 
cannot  effect  his  object  without  concealment— he  takes  a  false  oath,  and  becomes 
familiarized  to  that  species  of  perjury.  He  commences  by  presents;  then  thinks 
lie  ma)  turn  the  practice  to  pecuniary  advantage;  he  smuggles  upon  a  larger 
scale;  he  extends  his  adventures,  and  instead  of  gloves,  shoes,  or  silks,  he  tries 
the  experiment  of  more  valuable  articles.  He  makes  money,  and  in  time  is  in 
duced  to  embark  in  more  desperate  and  more  criminal  speculations.  What  is 
the  consequence?  You  are  obliged  to  keep  up  a  navy  to  prevent  contraband  trade, 
a  circumstance  alluded  to  on  a  former  night.  Battle  and  bloodshed  ensue — the 
loss  of  life,  and  perhaps  deliberate  murder.  All  this  is  very  melancholy,  and  yet 
for  \rhat  is  it  incurred  ?  Under  the  fanciful  notion  that  it  is  for  the  interest  of 
the  silk  man  i  fact  ure  of  this  country.  Why,  Lord  bless  me,  Sir,  we  know  very 
well,  after  all,  that  the  British  silk  manufacture  is  so  highly  thought  of  abroad 
at  this  moment,  that,  I  believe,  if  a  market  were  open  where  the  goods  of  this 
kingdom  should  compete  with  those  of  any  other,  the  British  goods  would  drive 
all  rivalship  out  of  the  field.  (Hear,  hear,  hear.)  If  this  be  so,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  pretence  for  saying  that,  to  change  the  system,  would  be  to  injure  our 
silk  manufactures.  Let  us  accompany  it  with  a  reduction  of  duty  on  the  raw  ar 
ticle,  and  there  is  not  a  foreign  country  that  will  not  be  glad  to  take  our  manu 
factured  silks.  I,  therefore,  hope  that  the  House  will  think  it  full  time  to  throw- 
down  this  hollow,  gilded,  and  distorted  idol  of  imaginary  protection;  to  hurl  it 
from  its  base,  and  to  establish  on  the  same  foundation  the  well-proportioned 
statue  of  comnvrrinl  liberty,  (Hear,  hear,  hear.)" 


ORATION 


BEFORE 


THE  SOCIETY  OF  PHI  BETA  KAPPA. 


AUGUST  26,  1824. 


PUBLISHED    BY    REQUEST. 


BY  EDWARD  EVERETT. 


OLIVER  EVERETT,  13  CORNHILL. 

1824. 


DISTRICT    OF    MASSACHUSETTS,  SS. 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  That  on  the  eleventh  day  of  September,  in 
the  forty-ninth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  Ame 
rica,  Oliver  Everett,  of  the  said  District,  hath  deposited  in  this  office  the 
title  of  a  Book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  proprietor,  in  the  words 
following,  to  wit : 

"  An  Oration  pronounced  at  Cambridge,  before  the  Society  of  Phi  Beta 
Kappa.  August  26,  1824.  Published  by  request.  By  Edward  Everett." 
In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled 
"  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  Learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of 
Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies, 
during  the  times  therein  mentioned  "  And  also  to  an  Act,  entitled  "  an 
Act,  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled  an  Act  for  the  encouragement  of 
Learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mention 
ed,  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving, 
and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

JNO.  W.  DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


Press  of  the  North  American  Review 


To  MAJOR  GENERAL 

LA  FAYETTE, 

THIS  Oration,  delivered  in  his  presence,  is 
respectfully  and  affectionately  dedicated  by 

THE  AUTHOR. 


NOTE.  A  few  passages  omitted  in  the  delivering  of 
this  Address,  on  account  of  its  length,  are  inserted  in  the 
printed  copy. 


MR  PRESIDENT,  AND  GENTLEMEN, 

IN  discharging  the  honorable  trust  of  being 
the  public  organ  of  your  sentiments  on  this  occa 
sion,  I  have  been  anxious  that  the  hour,  which  we 
here  pass  together,  should  be  occupied  by  those 
reflections  exclusively,  which  belong  to  us  as 
scholars.  Our  association  in  this  fraternity  is  aca 
demical  ;  we  engaged  in  it  before  our  alma  mater 
dismissed  us  from  her  venerable  roof,  to  wander 
in  the  various  paths  of  life  ;  and  we  have  now 
come  together  in  the  academical  holidays,  from 
every  variety  of  pursuit,  from  almost  every  part 
of  our  country,  to  meet  on  common  ground,  as 
the  brethren  of  one  literary  household.  The 
professional  cares  of  life,  like  the  conflicting 
tribes  of  Greece,  have  proclaimed  to  us  a  short 
2 


6 

armistice,  that  we  may  come  up  in  peace  to  our 
Olympia. 

But  from  the  wide  field  of  literary  speculation, 
and  the  innumerable  subjects  of  meditation 
which  arise  in  it,  a  selection  must  be  made. 
And  it  has  seemed  to  me  proper  that  we  should 
direct  our  thoughts,  not  merely  to  a  subject  of 
interest  to  scholars,  but  to  one,  which  may  re 
commend  itself  as  peculiarly  appropriate  to  us. 
If '  that  old  man  eloquent,  whom  the  dishonest 
victory  at  Cheronsea  killed  with  report,'  could 
devote  fifteen  years  to  the  composition  of  his 
Panegyric  on  Athens,  I  shall  need  no  excuse  to 
a  society  of  American  scholars,  in  choosing  for 
the  theme  of  an  address  on  an  occasion  like 
this,  the  peculiar  motives  to  intellectual  exer 
tion  in  America.  In  this  subject  that  curiosity, 
which  every  scholar  feels  in  tracing  and  com 
paring  the  springs  of  mental  activity,  is  height 
ened  and  dignified,  by  the  important  connexion 
of  the  inquiry  with  the  condition  and  prospects 
of  our  native  land. 

In  the  full  comprehension  of  the  terms,  the 
motives  to  intellectual  exertion  in  a  country 
embrace  the  most  important  springs  of  national 
character.  Pursued  into  its  details,  the  study 


of  these  springs  of  national  character  is  often 
little  better  than  fanciful  speculation.  The  ques 
tions,  "why  Asia  has  almost  always  been  the 
abode  of  despotism ;  and  Europe  more  propi 
tious  to  liberty  ;  why  the  Egyptians  were  abject 
and  melancholy ;  the  Greeks  inventive,  elegant, 
and  versatile  ;  the  Romans  stern,  saturnine,  and, 
in  matters  of  literature,  for  the  most  part  servile 
imitators  of  a  people,  whom  they  conquered,  de 
spised,  and  never  equalled  ;  why  tribes  of  barba 
rians  from  the  north  and  east,  not  known  to  differ 
essentially  from  each  other  at  the  time  of  their 
settlement  in  Europe,  should  have  laid  the  foun 
dation  of  national  characters  so  dissimilar,  as 
those  of  the  Spanish,  French,  German,  and  Eng 
lish  nations  ;"  these  are  questions  to  which  a  few 
general  answers  may  be  attempted,  that  will  pro 
bably  be  just  and  safe,  only  in  proportion  as  they 
are  vague  and  comprehensive.  Difficult  as  it 
is,  even  in  the  individual  man,  to  point  out  pre 
cisely  the  causes,  under  the  influence  of  which 
members  of  the  same  community  and  of  the 
same  family,  placed  apparently  in  the  same  cir 
cumstances,  grow  up  with  characters  the  most 
diverse ;  it  is  infinitely  more  difficult  to  perform 
the  same  analysis  on  a  subject  so  vast  as  a  na- 


tion  ;  where  it  is  first  not  a  small  question  what 
the  character  is,  before  you  touch  the  inquiry 
into  the  circumstances  by  which  it  was  formed. 
But  as,  in  the  case  of  individual  character, 
there  are  certain  causes  of  undisputed  and  pow 
erful  operation ;  there  are  also  in  national  cha 
racter  causes  equally  undisputed  of  improvement 
and  excellence,  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  dege 
neracy  and  decline,  on  the  other.  The  philoso 
phical  student  of  history,  the  impartial  observer 
of  man,  may  often  fix  on  circumstances,  which 
in  their  operation  on  the  minds  of  the  people, 
in  furnishing  the  motives  and  giving  the  direc 
tion  to  intellectual  exertion,  have  had  the  chief 
agency  in  making  them  what  they  were  or  are. 
Nor  are  there  many  exercises  of  the  speculative 
principle  more  elevated  than  this.  It  is  in  the 
highest  degree  curious  to  trace  physical  facts 
into  their  political,  intellectual,  and  moral  con 
sequences  ;  and  to  show  how  the  climate,  the 
geographical  position,  and  even  the  particular 
topography  of  a  region  connect  themselves  by 
evident  association,  with  the  state  of  society,  its 
predominating  pursuits,  and  characteristic  insti 
tutions,  i/ 
••/In  the  case  of  other  nations,  particularly  of 


those  which  in  the  great  drama  of  the  world 
have  long  since  passed  from  the  stage,  these 
speculations  are  often  only  curious.  The  ope 
ration  of  a  tropical  climate  in  enervating  and 
fitting  a  people  for  despotism  ;  the  influence  of 
a  broad  river  or  a  lofty  chain  of  mountains,  in 
arresting  the  march  of  conquest  or  of  emigra 
tion,  and  thus  becoming  the  boundary  not  merely 
of  governments,  but  of  languages,  literature, 
institutions,  and  character ;  the  effect  of  a  quarry 
of  fine  marble  on  the  progress  of  the  liberal 
arts  ;  the  agency  of  popular  institutions  in  pro 
moting  popular  eloquence,  and  the  tremendous 
reaction  of  popular  eloquence  on  the  fortunes  of 
a  state  ;  the  comparative  destiny  of  colonial  set 
tlements,  of  insular  states,  of  tribes  fortified  in 
nature's  Alpine  battlements,  or  scattered  over  a 
smiling  region  of  olive  gardens  and  vineyards  ; 
these  are  all  topics  indeed  of  rational  curiosity 
and  liberal  speculation,  but  important  only  as 
they  may  illustrate  the  prospects  of  our  own 
country.  /- 

It  is  therefore  when  we  turn  the  inquiry  to 
our  country,  when  we  survey  its  features,  search 
its  history,  and  contemplate  its  institutions,  to 
see  what  the  motives  are,  which  are  to  excite  and 


10 

guide  the  minds  of  the  people  ;  when  we  dwell 
not  on  a  distant,  an  uncertain,  an  almost  forgot 
ten  past ;  but  on  an  impending  future,  teeming 
with  life  and  action,  toward  which  we  are  rapid 
ly  and  daily  swept  forward,  and  with  which  we 
stand  in  the  dearest  connexion,  which  can  bind 
the  generations  of  man  together  ;  a  future,  which 
our  own  characters,  our  own  actions,  our  own 
principles  will  do  something  to  stamp  with  glory 
or  shame ;  it  is  then  that  the  inquiry  becomes 
practical,  momentous,  and  worthy  the  attention 
of  every  patriotic  scholar.  We  then  strive,  as 
far  as  it  is  in  the  power  of  philosophical  investi 
gation  to  do  it,  to  unfold  our  country's  reverend 
auspices,  to  cast  its  great  horoscope  in  the  na 
tional  sky,  where  many  stars  are  waning,  and 
many  have  set ;  to  ascertain  whether  the  soil 
which  we  love,  as  that  where  our  fathers  are 
laid  and  we  shall  presently  be  laid  with  them, 
will  be  trod  in  times  to  come  by  a  people  vir 
tuous,  enlightened,  and  free. 

The  first  of  the  circumstances  which  are  act 
ing  and  will  continue  to  act,  with  a  strong  pe 
culiarity  among  us,  and  which  must  prove  one 
of  the  most  powerful  influences,  in  exciting  and 
directing  the  intellect  of  the  country,  is  the  new 


11 

form  of  civil  society,  which  has  here  been  de 
vised  and  established.  I  shall  not  wander  so  far 
from  the  literary  limits  of  this  occasion,  nor 
into  a  field  so  oft  trodden,  as  the  praises  of  free 
political  institutions.  But  the  direct  and  appro 
priate  influence  on  mental  effort  of  institutions 
like  ours,  has  not  yet,  perhaps,  received  the  at 
tention,  which,  from  every  American  scholar,  it 
richly  deserves.  I  have  ventured  to  say,  that  a 
new  form  of  civil  society  has  here  been  devised 
and  established.  The  ancient  Grecian  repub 
lics,  indeed,  were  free  enough  within  the  walls 
of  the  single  city,  of  which  most  of  them  were 
wholly  or  chiefly  composed ;  but  to  these  single 
cities  the  freedom,  as  well  as  the  power,  was 
confined.  Toward  the  confederated  or  tributa 
ry  states,  the  government  was  generally  a  des 
potism,  more  capricious  and  not  less  stern,  than 
that  of  a  single  tyrant.  Rome  as  a  state  was 
never  free  ;  in  every  period  of  her  history,  au* 
thentic  and  dubious,  royal,  republican,  and  im 
perial,  her  proud  citizens  were  the  slaves  of  an 
artful,  accomplished,  wealthy  aristocracy  ;  and 
nothing  but  the  hard  fought  battles  of  her  stern 
tribunes  can  redeem  her  memory  to  the  friends 


12 

of  liberty.  In  ancient  and  modern  history  there 
is  no  example,  before  our  own,  of  a  purely  elec 
tive  and  representative  system.  It  is  therefore, 
on  an  entirely  novel  plan,  that,  in  this  country, 
the  whole  direction  and  influence  of  affairs  ;  all 
the  trusts  and  honors  of  society ;  the  power  of 
making,  abrogating,  and  administering  the  laws  ; 
the  whole  civil  authority  and  sway,  from  the 
highest  post  in  the  government  to  the  smallest 
village  trust,  are  put  directly  into  the  market  of 
merit.  Whatsoever  efficacy  there  is  in  high  sta 
tion  and  exalted  honors,  to  call  out  and  exercise 
the  powers,  either  by  awakening  the  emulation 
of  the  aspirants  or  exciting  the  efforts  of  the  in 
cumbents,  is  here  directly  exerted  on  the  largest 
mass  of  men,  with  the  smallest  possible  deduc 
tions.  Nothing  is  bestowed  on  the  chance  of 
birth,  nothing  depends  on  proximity  to  the  foun 
tain  of  honor,  nothing  is  to  be  acquired  by  es 
pousing  hereditary  family  interests ;  but  what 
ever  is  desired  must  be  sought  in  the  way  of  a 
broad,  fair,  personal  competition.  It  requires 
little  argument  to  show,  that  such  a  system  must 
most  widely  and  most  powerfully  have  the  effect 
of  appealing  to  whatever  of  energy  the  land 


13 

contains  ;  of  searching  out,  with  magnetic  in 
stinct,  in  the  remotest  quarters,  the  latent  abili 
ty  of  its  children. 

It  may  be  objected,  and  it  has  been,  that  for 
want  of  a  hereditary  government,  we  lose  that 
powerful  spring  of  action  which  resides  in  the 
patronage  of  such  a  government,  and  must  ema 
nate  from  the  crown.  With  many  individuals, 
friendly  to  our  popular  institutions,  it  is  never 
theless  an  opinion,  that  we  must  consent  to  lose 
something  of  the  genial  influence  of  princely 
and  royal  patronage  on  letters  and  arts,  and 
find  our  consolation  in  the  political  benefits  of 
our  free  system.  It  may  be  doubted,  however, 
whether  this  view  be  not  entirely  false.  A 
crown  is  in  itself  a  strip  of  velvet  set  with  jew 
els  ;  the  dignity  which  it  imparts  and  the  honor 
with  which  it  is  invested,  depend  on  the  num 
bers,  resources,  and  intelligence  of  the  people 
who  permit  it  to  be  worn.  The  crown  of  the 
late  emperor  of  Hayti,  is  said  to  have  been  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  in  the  world ;  and  Theodore 
of  Corsica,  while  confined  for  debt  in  the  Fleet 
in  London,  sat  on  as  high  a  throne  as  the  king 
of  England.  Since  then  the  power  and  influ- 
3 


14 

ence  of  the  crown  are  really  in  the  people,  it 
seems  preposterous  to  say,  that  what  increases 
the  importance  of  the  people  can  diminish  the 
effect  of  that,  which  proceeds  from  them,  de 
pends  upon  them,  and  reverts  to  them.  Sove 
reignty,  in  all  its  truth  and  efficacy,  exists  here, 
as  much  as  ever  it  did  at  London,  at  Paris,  at 
Rome,  or  at  Susa.  It  exists,  it  is  true,  in  an 
equal  proportionate  diffusion  ;  a  part  of  it  be 
longs  to  the  humblest  citizen.  The  error  seems 
to  be  in  confounding  the  idea  of  sovereignty, 
with  the  quality  of  an  individual  sovereign. 
Wheresoever  Providence  gathers  into  a  nation 
the  tribes  of  men,  there  a  social  life,  with  its 
energies  and  functions,  is  conferred ;  and  this 
social  life  is  sovereignty.  By  the  healthful 
action  of  our  representative  system,  it  is  made 
to  pervade  the  empire  like  the  air;  to  reach  the 
farthest,  descend  to  the  lowest,  and  bind  the 
distant  together  ;  it  is  made  not  only  to  coope 
rate  with  the  successful  and  assist  the  prosper 
ous,  but  to  cheer  the  remote,  '  to  remember  the 
forgotten,  to  attend  to  the  neglected,  to  visit  the 
forsaken.'  Before  the  rising  of  our  republic  in 
the  world,  the  faculties  of  men  have  had  but 
one  weary  pilgrimage  to  perform — to  travel  up 


15 

to  court.  By  an  improvement  on  the  Jewish 
polity,  which  enjoined  on  the  nation  a  visit 
thrice  a  year  to  the  holy  city;  the  great,  the  mu 
nificent,  the  enlightened  states  of  the  ancient 
and  modern  world  have  required  a  constant  re 
sidence  on  the  chosen  spot.  Provincial  has 
become  another  term  for  inferior  and  rude ;  and 
unpolite,  which  once  meant  only  rural,  has  got 
to  signify,  in  all  our  languages,  something  little 
better  than  barbarous.  But  since,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  a  small  part  only  of  the  population  of 
a  large  state  can,  by  physical  possibility,  be 
crowded  within  the  walls  of  a  city,  and  there 
receive  the  genial  beams  of  metropolitan  favor, 
it  follows  that  the  great  mass  of  men  are  cut  off 
from  the  operation  of  some  of  the  strongest  ex 
citements  to  exertion.  It  is  rightfully  urged 
then,  as  a  great  advantage  of  our  system,  that 
the  excitements  of  society  go  down  as  low  as  its 
burdens,  and  search  out  and  bring  forward 
whatsoever  of  ability  and  zeal  are  comprehend 
ed  within  the  limits  of  the  land.  This  is  but  the 
beginning  of  the  benefit,  or  rather  it  is  not  yet 
the  benefit.  It  is  the  effect  of  this  diffusion  of 
privileges  that  is  precious.  Capacity  and  op- 


16 

portunity,  the  twin  sisters,  who  can  scarce  sub 
sist  but  with  each  other,  are  now  brought  to 
gether.  The  people  who  are  to  choose,  and  from 
whose  number  are  to  be  chosen,  by  their  neigh 
bors,  the  highest  officers  of  state,  infallibly  feel 
an  impulse  to  mental  activity  ;  they  read,  think, 
and  compare  ;  they  found  village  schools,  they 
collect  social  libraries,  they  prepare  their  child 
ren  for  the  higher  establishments  of  education. 
The  world,  I  think,  has  been  abused  on  the  ten 
dency  of  institutions  perfectly  popular.  From 
the  ill-organized  states  of  antiquity,  terrific 
examples  of  license  and  popular  misrule  are 
quoted,  to  prove  that  man  requires  to  be  protect 
ed  from  himself,  without  asking  who  is  to  pro 
tect  him  from  the  protector,  himself  also  a  man. 
While  from  the  very  first  settlement  of  America 
to  the  present  day,  the  most  prominent  trait  of 
our  character  has  been  to  cherish  and  diffuse 
the  means  of  education.  The  village  school- 
house,  and  the  village  church,  are  the  monu 
ments,  which  the  American  people  have  erected 
to  their  freedom ;  to  read,  and  write,  and  think, 
are  the  licentious  practices,  which  have  charac 
terised  our  democracy. 


17 

But  it  will  be  urged  perhaps,  that,  though  the 
effect  of  our  institutions  be  to  excite  the  intel 
lect  of  the  nation,  they  excite  it  too  much  in  a 
political  direction ;  that  the  division  and  subdi 
vision  of  the  country  into  states  and  districts, 
and  the  equal  diffusion  throughout  them  of  po 
litical  privileges  and  powers,  whatever  favor 
able  effect  in  other  ways  they  may  produce,  are 
attended  by  this  evil, — that  they  kindle  a  politi 
cal  ambition,  where  it  would  not  and  ought  not 
be  felt ;  and  particularly  that  they  are  unfriendly 
in  their  operation  on  literature,  as  they  call 
the  aspiring  youth,  from  the  patient  and  labo 
rious  vigils  of  the  student,  to  plunge  premature 
ly  into  the  conflicts  of  the  Forum.  It  may, 
however,  be  doubted,  whether  there  be  any 
foundation  whatever  for  a  charge  like  this  ;  and 
whether  the  fact,  so  far  as  it  is  one,  that  the 
talent  and  ambition  of  the  country  incline,  at 
present,  to  a  political  course,  be  not  owing  to 
causes  wholly  unconnected,  with  the  free  cha 
racter  of  our  institutions.  It  need  not  be  said 
that  the  administration  of  the  government  of  a 
country,  whether  it  be  liberal  or  despotic,  is  the 
first  thing  to  be  provided  for.  Some  persons 
must  be  employed  in  making  and  administering 


18 

the  laws,  before  any  other  interest  can  receive 
attention.  Our  fathers,  the  pilgrims,  before 
they  left  the  vessel,  in  which  for  five  months 
they  had  been  tossed  on  the  ocean,  before  set 
ting  foot  on  the  new  world  of  their  desire, 
drew  up  a  simple  constitution  of  government. 
As  this  is  the  first  care  in  the  order  of  nature, 
it  ever  retains  its  paramount  importance.  So 
ciety  must  be  preserved  in  its  constituted  forms, 
or  there  is  no  safety  for  life,  no  security  for 
property,  no  permanence  for  any  institution 
civil,  moral,  or  religious.  The  first  efforts  then 
of  social  men  are  of  necessity  political.  Apart 
from  every  call  of  ambition,  honorable  or  self 
ish,  of  interest  enlarged  or  mercenary,  the  care 
of  the  government  is  the  first  care  of  a  civilized 
community.  In  the  early  stages  of  social  pro 
gress,  where  there  is  little  property  and  a  scanty 
population,  the  whole  strength  of  the  society 
must  be  employed  in  its  support  and  defence. 
Though  we  are  constantly  receding  from  these 
stages  we  have  not  wholly  left  them.  Even 
our  rapidly  increasing  population  is  and  will  for 
some  time  remain  small,  compared  with  the 
space  over  which  it  is  diffused ;  and  this,  with 
the  total  absence  of  large  hereditary  fortunes, 


19 

will  create  a  demand  for  political  services,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  necessity  of  rendering 
them  on  the  other.  There  is  then  no  ground 
for  ascribing  the  political  tendency  of  the  talent 
and  activity  of  this  country,  to  an  imagined  in 
compatibility  of  popular  institutions  with  the 
profound  cultivation  of  letters.  Suppose  our 
government  were  changed  tomorrow ;  that  the 
five  points  of  a  stronger  government  were  intro 
duced,  a  hereditary  sovereign,  an  order  of  no 
bility,  an  established  church,  a  standing  army, 
and  a  vigilant  police  ;  and  that  these  should 
take  place  of  that  admirable  system,  which  now, 
like  the  genial  air,  pervades  all,  supports  all, 
cheers  all,  and  is  nowhere  seen.  Suppose  this 
change  made,  and  other  circumstances  to  re 
main  the  same ;  our  population  no  more  dense, 
our  boundaries  as  wide,  and  the  accumulation 
of  private  wealth  no  more  abundant.  Would 
there,  in  the  new  state  of  things,  be  less  inte 
rest  in  politics  ?  By  the  terms  of  the  supposi 
tion,  the  leading  class  of  the  community,  the 
nobles,  are  to  be  politicians  by  birth.  By  the 
nature  of  the  case,  a  large  portion  of  the  re 
mainder,  who  gain  their  livelihood  by  their 
industry  and  talents,  would  be  engrossed,  not 


20 

indeed  in  the  free  political  competition,  which 
now  prevails,  but  in  pursuing  the  interests  of 
rival  court  factions.  One  class  only,  the  pea 
santry,  would  remain,  which  would  take  less  in 
terest  in  politics  than  the  corresponding  class 
in  a  free  state ;  or  rather,  this  is  a  new  class, 
which  invariably  comes  in  with  a  strong  go 
vernment  ;  -and  no  one  can  seriously  think  the 
cause  of  science  and  literature  would  be  pro 
moted,  by  substituting  an  European  peasantry, 
in  the  place  of,  perhaps,  the  most  substantial 
uncorrupted  population  on  earth,  the  American 
yeomanry.  Moreover  the  evil  in  question  is 
with  us  a  self-correcting  evil.  If  the  career  of 
politics  be  more  open,  and  the  temptation  to 
crowd  it  stronger,  competition  will  spring  up, 
numbers  will  engage  in  the  pursuit ;  the  less 
able,  the  less  industrious,  the  less  ambitious 
must  retire,  and  leave  the  race  to  the  swift  and 
the  battle  to  the  strong.  But  in  hereditary  go 
vernments  no  such  remedy  exists.  One  class 
of  society,  by  the  nature  of  its  position,  must 
be  rulers,  magistrates,  or  politicians.  Weak 
or  strong,  willing  or  unwilling  they  must  play 
the  game,  though  they  as  well  as  the  people 
pay  the  bitter  forfeit.  The  obnoxious  king  can 


21 

seldom  shake  off  the  empoisoned  purple  ;  he 
must  wear  the  crown  of  thorns,  till  it  is  struck 
off  at  the  scaffold  ;  and  the  same  artificial  ne 
cessity  has  obliged  generations  of  nobles,  in  all 
the  old  states  of  Europe,  to  toil  and  bleed  for  a 

Power  too  great  to  keep  or  to  resign. 

Where  the  compulsion  stops  short  of  these  af 
flicting  extremities,  still,  under  the  governments 
in  question,  a  large  portion  of  the  community  is 
unavoidably  destined  to  the  calling  of  the  cour 
tier,  the  soldier,  the  party  retainer ;  to  a  life  of 
service,  intrigue,  and  court  attendance ;  and 
thousands,  and  those  the  prominent  individuals 
in  society,  are  brought  up  to  look  on  a  live 
lihood  gained  by  private  industry  as  base  ;  on 
study  as  the  pedant's  trade,  on  labor  as  the 
badge  of  slavery.  I  look  in  vain  in  institutions 
like  these,  for  any  thing  essentially  favorable  to 
intellectual  progress.  On  the  contrary,  while 
they  must  draw  away  the  talent  and  ambition  of 
the  country,  quite  as  much  as  popular  institutions 
can  do  it,  into  pursuits  foreign  from  the  culture 
of  the  intellect,  they  necessarily  doom  to  obscu 
rity  no  small  part  of  the  mental  energy  of  the 
land.  For  that  mental  energy  has  been  equally 
4 


diffused  by  sterner  levellers  than  ever  marched 
in  the  van  of  a  Revolution  ;  the  nature  of  man 
and  the  Providence  of  God.  Native  character, 
strength  and  quickness  of  mind,  are  not  of  the 
number  of  distinctions  and  accomplishments, 
that  human  institutions  can  monopolize  within  a 
city's  walls.  In  quiet  times,  they  remain  and 
perish  in  the  obscurity,  to  which  a  false  organi 
zation  of  society  consigns  them.  In  dangerous, 
convulsed,  and  trying  times,  they  spring  up  in 
the  fields,  in  the  village  hamlets,  and  on  the 
mountain  tops,  and  teach  the  surprised  favor 
ites  of  human  law,  that  bright  eyes,  skilful 
hands,  quick  perceptions,  firm  purpose,  and 
brave  hearts,  are  not  the  exclusive  appanage 
of  courts.  Our  popular  institutions  are  favor 
able  to  intellectual  improvement  because  their 
foundation  is  in  dear  nature.  They  do  not 
consign  the  greater  part  of  the  social  frame  to 
torpidity  and  mortification.  They  send  out  a 
vital  nerve  to  every  member  of  the  community, 
by  which  its  talent  and  power,  great  or  small, 
are  brought  into  living  conjunction  and  strong 
sympathy  with  the  kindred  intellect  of  the  na 
tion  ;  and  every  impression  on  every  part  vibrates 
with  electric  rapidity  through  the  whole.  They 


encourage  nature  to  perfect  her  work ;  they  make 
education,  the  soul's  nutriment,  cheap ;  they  bring 
up  remote  and  shrinking  talent  into  the  cheer 
ful  field  of  competition ;  in  a  thousand  ways 
they  provide  an  audience  for  lips,  which  nature 
has  touched  with  persuasion  ;  they  put  a  lyre 
into  the  hands  of  genius ;  they  bestow  on  all 
who  deserve  it  or  seek  it,  the  only  patronage 
worth  having,  the  only  patronage  that  ever 
struck  out  a  spark  of  '  celestial  fire,' — the  pa 
tronage  of  fair  opportunity.  This  is  a  day  of  im 
proved  education ;  new  systems  of  teaching  are 
devised  ;  modes  of  instruction,  choice  of  stu 
dies,  adaptation  of  text  books,  the  whole  ma 
chinery  of  means,  have  been  brought  in  our  day 
under  severe  revision.  But  were  1  to  attempt 
to  point  out  the  most  efficacious  and  compre 
hensive  improvement  in  education,  the  engine, 
by  which  the  greatest  portion  of  mind  could  be 
brought  and  kept  under  cultivation,  the  disci 
pline  which  would  reach  farthest,  sink  deepest, 
and  cause  the  word  of  instruction,  not  to  spread 
over  the  surface  like  an  artificial  hue,  carefully 
laid  on,  but  to  penetrate  to  the  heart  and  soul 
of  its  objects,  it  would  be  popular  institutions. 
Give  the  people  an  object  in  promoting  oduca- 


24 

tion,  and  the  best  methods  will  infallibly  be 
suggested  by  that  instinctive  ingenuity  of  our 
nature,  which  provides  means  for  great  and  pre 
cious  ends.  Give  the  people  an  object  in  pro 
moting  education,  and  the  worn  hand  of  labor 
will  be  opened  to  the  last  farthing,  that  its 
children  may  enjoy  means  denied  to  itself. 
This  great  contest  about  black  boards  and  sand 
tables  will  then  lose  something  of  its  impor 
tance,  and  even  the  exalted  names  of  Bell  and 
Lancaster  may  sink  from  that  very  lofty  height, 
where  an  over  hasty  admiration  has  placed 
them. 

But  though  it  be  conceded  to  us  that  the 
tendency,  which  is  alleged  to  exist  in  this 
country  toward  the  political  career,  is  not  a 
vicious  effect  of  our  free  institutions,  still  it  may 
be  inquired,  whether  the  new  form  of  social 
organization  among  us  is  at  least  to  produce  no 
corresponding  modification  of  our  literature  ? 
As  the  country  advances,  as  the  population 
becomes  denser,  as  wealth  accumulates,  as  the 
various  occasions  of  a  large,  prosperous,  and 
polite  community  call  into  strong  action  and 
vigorous  competition  the  literary  talent  of  the 
country,  will  no  peculiar  form  or  direction  be 


25 

given  to  its  literature,  by  the  nature  of  its  insti 
tutions  ?  To  this  question  an  answer  must, 
without  hesitation,  be  given  in  the  affirmative. 
Literature  as  well  in  its  origin,  as  in  its  true 
and  only  genuine  character,  is  but  a  more  per 
fect  communication  of  man  with  man  and  mind 
with  mind.  It  is  a  grave,  sustained,  deliberate 
utterance  of  fact,  of  opinion,  and  feeling ;  or  a 
free  and  happy  reflection  of  nature,  of  cha 
racter,  or  of  manners  ;  and  if  it  be  not  these  it  is 
poor  imitation.  It  may,  therefore,  be  assumed 
as  certain,  that  the  peculiarity  of  our  condition 
and  institutions  will  be  reflected  in  some  pecu 
liarity  of  our  literature  ;  but  what  that  shall  be  it 
is  as  yet  too  early  to  say.*  Literary  history  in 
forms  us  of  many  studies,  which  have  been  ne- 

*  The  peculiar  natural  features  of  the  American  Continent 
are  of  themselves  sufficient  to  produce  some  strong  peculiarity 
in  its  literature,  but  this  topic  is  comprehensive  and  curious 
enough  for  a  separate  Essay.  It  has,  I  am  permitted  to  say, 
been  made  the  subject  of  one,  by  M.  de  Salazar  the  minister 
from  the  Colombian  Republic  to  the  United  States,  which  will 
shortly  be  presented  to  the  friends  of  American  letters.  An 
essay  on  such  a  subject,  from  an  accomplished  citizen  of  a  free 
State,  established  in  the  kingdom  of  Neuva  Granada,  is  itself 
an  admirable  illustration  of  the  genial  influence  of  popular  in 
stitutions  on  Intellectual  Improvement. 


glected  as  dangerous  to  existing  governments ; 
and  many  others  which  have  been  cultivated  be 
cause  they  were  prudent  and  safe.  We  have 
hardly  the  means  of  settling  from  analogy,  what 
direction  the  mind  will  most  decisively  take, 
when  left  under  strong  excitements  to  action, 
wholly  without  restraint  from  the  arm  of  power. 
It  is  impossible  to  anticipate  what  garments  our 
native  muses  will  weave  for  themselves.  To 
foretell  our  literature  would  be  to  create  it. 
There  was  a  time  before  an  epic  poem,  a  trage 
dy,  or  a  historical  composition  had  ever  been 
produced  by  the  wit  of  man.  It  was  a  time  of 
vast  and  powerful  empires,  of  populous  and 
wealthy  cities.  But  these  new  and  beautiful 
forms  of  human  thought  and  feeling  all  sprang 
up  in  Greece,  under  the  stimulus  of  her  free  in 
stitutions.  Before  they  appeared  in  the  world, 
it  would  have  been  idle  for  the  philosopher  to 
form  conjectures,  as  to  the  direction,  which  the 
kindling  genius  of  the  age  was  to  assume.  He, 
who  could  form,  could  and  would  realise  the  an 
ticipation,  and  it  would  cease  to  be  an  anticipa 
tion.  Assuredly  epic  poetry  was  invented  then 
and  not  before,  when  the  gorgeous  vision  of  the 
Iliad,  not  in  its  full  detail  of  circumstance,  but 


27 

in  the  dim  conception  of  its  leading  scenes  and 
sterner  features,  burst  into  the  soul  of  Homer. 
Impossible,  indeed,  were  the  task  fully  to  foretell 
the  progress  of  the  mind,  under  the  influence  of 
institutions  as  new,  as  peculiar,  and  far  more 
animating,  than  those  of  Greece.  But  if,  as  no 
one  will  deny,  our  political  system  bring  more 
minds  into  action  on  equal  terms,  if  it  provide  a 
prompter  circulation  of  thought  throughout  the 
community,  if  it  give  weight  and  emphasis  to 
more  voices,  if  it  swell  to  tens  of  thousands  and 
millions  those  '  sons  of  emulation,  who  crowd 
the  narrow  strait  where  honor  travels,'  then  it 
seems  not  too  much  to  expect  some  peculiarity 
at  least,  if  we  may  not  call  it  improvement,  in 
that  literature,  which  is  but  the  voice  and  utter 
ance  of  all  this  mental  action.  There  is  little 
doubt  that  the  instrument  of  communication 
itself  will  receive  great  improvements  ;  that  the 
written  and  spoken  language  will  acquire  force 
and  power ;  possibly,  that  forms  of  address, 
wholly  new,  will  be  struck  out,  to  meet  the  uni 
versal  demand  for  new  energy.  When  the  im 
provement  or  the  invention  (whatever  it  be) 
comes,  it  will  come  unlocked  for,  as  well  to  its 
happy  author  as  the  world.  But  where  great 


28 

interests  are  at  stake,  great  concerns  rapidly  suc 
ceeding  each  other,  depending  on  almost  innu 
merable  wills,  arid  yet  requiring  to  be  appre 
hended  in  a  glance,  and  explained  in  a  word ; 
where  movements  are  to  be  given  to  a  vast  em 
pire,  not  by  transmitting  orders,  but  by  diffusing 
opinions,  exciting  feelings,  and  touching  the 
electric  chord  of  sympathy,  there  language  and 
expression  will  become  intense,  and  the  old  pro 
cesses  of  communication  must  put  on  a  vigor 
and  a  directness,  adapted  to  the  aspect  of  the 
times.  Our  country  is  called,  as  it  is,  practical ; 
but  this  is  the  element  for  intellectual  action. 
No  strongly  marked  and  high  toned  literature  ; 
poetry,  eloquence,  or  ethics ;  ever  appeared  but 
in  the  pressure,  the  din,  and  crowd  of  great 
interests,  great  enterprises,  perilous  risks,  and 
dazzling  rewards.  Statesmen,  and  warriors, 
and  poets,  and  orators,  and  artists,  start  up 
under  one  and  the  same  excitement.  They  are 
all  branches  of  one  stock.  They  form,  and 
cheer,  and  stimulate,  and,  what  is  worth  all  the 
rest,  understand  each  other ;  and  it  is  as  truly 
the  sentiment  of  the  student,  in  the  recesses  of 
his  cell,  as  of  the  soldier  in  the  ranks,  which 
breathes  in  the  exclamation  : 


29 

To  all  the  sons  of  sense  proclaim, 
One  glorious  hour  of  crowded  life 
Is  worth  an  age  without  a  name. 

But  we  are  brought  back  to  the  unfavorable 
aspect  of  the  subject,  by  being  reminded  out  of 
history  of  the  splendid  patronage,  which  arbitra 
ry  governments  have  bestowed  on  letters,  and 
which,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  can  hardly 
be  extended  even  to  the  highest  merit,  under 
institutions  like  our  own.  We  are  told  of  the 
munificent  pensions,  the  rich  establishments, 
the  large  foundations ;  of  the  museums  erected, 
the  libraries  gathered,  the  endowments  granted, 
by  Ptolemies,  Augustuses,  and  Louises  of  an 
cient  and  modern  days.  We  are  asked  to  re 
mark  the  fruit  of  this  noble  patronage ;  wonders 
of  antiquarian  or  scientific  lore,  Thesauruses 
and  Corpuses,  efforts  of  erudition  from  which 
the  emulous  student,  who  would  read  all  things, 
weigh  all  things,  surpass  all  things,  recoils  in 
horror ;  volumes  and  shelves  of  volumes,  before 
which  meek-eyed  patience  folds  her  hands  in 
despair. 

When  we   have  contemplated   these  things, 
and  turn  our  thoughts  back  to  our  poor  republi 
can  land,  to  our  frugal  treasury,  and  the  caution 
5 


30 

with  which  it  is  dispensed ;  to  our  modest  for 
tunes,  and  the  thrift  with  which  they  are  hoard 
ed;  to  our  scanty  public  libraries,  and  the  plain 
brick  walls  within  which  they  are  deposited:  we 
may  be  apt  to  form  gloomy  auguries  of  the  in 
fluence  of  free  political  institutions  on  our  lite 
rature.  It  is  important  then,  that  we  examine 
more  carefully  the  experience  of  former  ages, 
and  see  how  far  their  institutions,  as  they  have 
been  more  or  less  popular,  have  been  more  or 
less  associated  with  displays  of  intellectual  ex 
cellence.  When  we  make  this  examination,  we 
shall  be  gratified  to  find,  that  the  precedents 
are  all  in  favor  of  liberty.  The  greatest  efforts 
of  human  genius  have  been  made,  where  the 
nearest  approach  to  free  institutions  has  taken 
place.  There  shone  not  forth  one  ray  of  intel 
lectual  light,  to  cheer  the  long  and  gloomy  ages 
of  the  Memphian  and  Babylonian  despots.  Not 
a  historian,  not  an  orator,  not  a  poet  is  heard 
of  in  their  annals.  When  you  ask,  what  was 
achieved  by  the  generations  of  thinking  beings, 
the  millions  of  men,  whose  natural  genius  was 
as  bright  as  that  of  the  Greeks,  nay,  who  fore 
stalled  the  Greeks  in  the  first  invention  of  many 
of  the  arts,  you  are  told  that  they  built  the  pyra- 


31 

mids  of  Memphis,  the  temples  of  Thebes,  and 
the  tower  of  Babylon,  and  carried  Sesostris  and 
Ninus  upon  their  shoulders,  from  the  West  of 
Africa  to  the  Indus.  Mark  the  contrast  in 
Greece.  With  the  first  emerging  of  that  coun 
try  into  the  light  of  political  liberty,  the  poems 
of  Homer  appear.  Some  centuries  of  political 
misrule  and  literary  darkness  follow,  and  then 
the  great  constellation  of  their  geniuses  seems 
to  rise  at  once.  The  stormy  eloquence  and  the 
deep  philosophy,  the  impassioned  drama  and 
the  grave  history,  were  all  produced  for  the 
entertainment  of  that  '  fierce  democratic'  of 
Athens.  Here  then  the  genial  influence  of  lib 
erty  on  letters  is  strongly  put  to  the  test. 
Athens  was  certainly  a  free  state ;  free  to  licen 
tiousness,  free  to  madness.  The  rich  were  arbi 
trarily  pillaged  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the 
state,  the  great  were  banished  to  appease  the 
envy  of  their  rivals,  the  wise  sacrificed  to  the  fury 
of  the  populace.  It  was  a  state,  in  short,  where 
liberty  existed  with  most  of  the  imperfections, 
which  have  led  men  to  love  and  prai.se  despot 
ism.  Still,  however,  it  was  for  this  lawless. 
merciless  people,  that  the  most  rhastisrd 
accomplished  literature,  which  the  world 


32 

known,  was  produced.    The  philosophy  of  Plato 
was  the  attraction,  which  drew  to  a  morning's 
walk  in  the  olive  gardens  of  the  academy,  the 
young  men  of  this  factious  city.    Those  tumult 
uous    assemblies    of  Athens,   the    very   same, 
which  rose  in  their  wrath,  and  to  a  man,  and 
clamored  for  the  blood  of  Phocion,  required  to 
be  addressed,  not  in  the  cheap  extemporaneous 
rant  of  modern  demagogues,  but  in  the  elabo 
rate  and  thrice  repeated  orations  of  Demosthe 
nes.    No !  the  noble  and  elegant  arts  of  Greece 
grew  up  in  no  Augustan  age,  enjoyed  neither 
royal  nor  imperial  patronage.    Unknown  before 
in  the  world,  strangers  on  the  Nile,  and  strangers 
on  the  Euphrates,  they  sprang  at  once  into  life 
in  a  region  not  unlike  our  own  New  England — 
iron  bound,  sterile,  and  free.     The  imperial  as 
tronomers  of  Chaldasa  went  up  almost  to  the 
stars  in  their  observatories ;  but  it  was  a  Greek, 
who  first  foretold  an  eclipse,  and  measured  the 
year.     The  nations  of  the  East  invented  the 
alphabet,  but  not  a  line  has  reached  us  of  pro 
fane  literature,  in  any  of  their  languages;  and  it 
is  owing  to  the  embalming  power  of  Grecian 
genius,  that  the  invention  itself  has  been  trans 
mitted  to  the  world.     The  Egyptian  architects 


33 

could  erect  structures,  which  after  three  thou 
sand  five  hundred  years  are  still  standing,  in 
their  uncouth  original  majesty  ;  but  it  was  only 
on  the  barren  sou*  of  Attica,  that  the  beautiful 
columns  of  the  Parthenon  and  the  Theseum 
could  rest,  which  are  standing  also.  With  the 
decline  of  liberty  in  Greece,  began  the  decline 
of  all  her  letters  and  all  her  arts ;  though  her 
tumultuous  democracies  were  succeeded  by  lib 
eral  and  accomplished  princes.  Compare  the 
literature  of  the  Alexandrian  with  that  of  the 
Periclean  age  ;  how  cold,  pedantic,  and  imita 
tive  !  Compare,  I  will  not  say,  the  axes,  the 
eggs,  the  altars,  and  the  other  frigid  devices  of 
the  pensioned  wits  in  the  museum  at  Alexan 
dria,  but  compare  their  best  spirits  with  those  of 
independent  Greece  ;  Callimachus  with  Pindar, 
Lycophron  with  Sophocles,  Aristophanes  of  By 
zantium  with  Aristotle,  and  Apollonius  the  Rho- 
dian  with  Homer.  When  we  descend  to  Rome, 
to  the  Augustan  age,  the  exalted  era  of  Maece 
nas,  we  find  one  uniform  work  of  imitation,  often 
of  translation.  The  choicest  geniuses  seldom 
rise  beyond  a  happy  transfusion  of  the  Grecian 
masters.  Horace  translates  Alcaeus,  Terence 
translates  Menander,  Lucretius  translates  Epicu- 


34 

rus,  Virgil  translates  Homer,  and  Cicero — I  had 
almost  said,  translates  Demosthenes  and  Plato. 
But  the  soul  of  liberty  did  burst  forth  from 
the  lips  of  Cicero,  '  her  form  had  not  yet  lost  all 
its  original  brightness,'  her  inspiration  produced 
in  him  the  only  specimens  of  a  purely  original 
literature,  which  Rome  has  transmitted  to  us. 
After  him,  their  literary  history  is  written  in  one 
line  of  Tacitus  ;  gliscente  adulatione,  magna 
ingenia  deterrebantur.  The  fine  arts  revived  a 
little  under  the  princes  of  the  Flavian  house* 
but  never  rose  higher  than  a  successful  imita 
tion  of  the  waning  excellence  of  Greece.  With 
the  princes  of  this  line,  the  arts  of  Rome  ex 
pired,  and  Constantine  the  great  was  obliged 
to  tear  down  an  arch  of  Trajan  for  sculptures, 
wherewithal  to  adorn  his  own.  In  modern 
times  civilized  states  have  multiplied  ;  political 
institutions  have  varied  in  different  states,  and 
at  different  times  in  the  same  state  ;  some  libe 
ral  institutions  have  existed  in  the  bosom  of  so 
cieties  otherwise  despotic  ;  and  a  great  addition 
of  new  studies  has  been  made  to  the  encyclo 
paedia,  which  have  all  been  cultivated  by  great 
minds,  and  some  of  which,  as  the  physical  and 
experimental  sciences,  have  little  or  no  direct 


35 

connexion  with  the  state  of  liberty.  These  cir 
cumstances  perplex,  in  some  degree,  the  inquiry 
into  the  effect  of  free  institutions  on  intellectual 
improvement  in  modern  times.  There  are  times 
and  places,  where  it  would  seem,  that  the  muses, 
both  the  gay  and  the  severe,  had  been  trans 
formed  into  court  ladies.  Upon  the  whole, 
however,  the  modern  history  of  literature  bears 
but  a  cold  testimony  to  the  genial  influence  of 
the  governments,  under  which  it  has  grown  up. 
Dante  and  Petrarch  composed  their  beautiful 
works  in  exile ;  Boccaccio  complains  in  the 
most  celebrated  of  his,  that  he  was  transfixed 
with  the  darts  of  envy  and  calumny ;  Machia- 
velli  was  pursued  by  the  party  of  the  Medici  for 
resisting  their  tyrannical  designs ;  Guicciardini 
retired  in  disgust  to  compose  his  history  in  vo 
luntary  exile ;  Galileo  confessed  in  the  prisons 
of  the  Inquisition,  that  the  earth  did  not  move; 
Ariosto  lived  in  poverty;  and  Tasso  died  in 
want  and  despair.*  Cervantes,  after  he  had 
immortalized  himself  in  his  great  work,  was 
obliged  to  write  on  for  bread.  The  whole 

*  Martinelli,  in  his  Edition  of  the  Decamerone,  cited  in  the 
Introduction  to  Sidney's  Discourses  on  Government,  Edition  of 
1751,  p.  34. 


S6 

French  academy  was  pensioned  to  crush  the 
great  Corneille.  Racine,  after  living  to  see  his 
finest  pieces  derided  as  cold  and  worthless,  died 
of  a  broken  heart.  The  divine  genius  of  Shak- 
speare  raised  him  to  no  higher  rank  than  that  of 
a  subaltern  actor  in  his  own,  and  Ben  Jonson's 
plays.  The  immortal  Chancellor  was  sacrificed 
to  the  preservation  of  a  worthless  minion,  and 
is  said,  (falsely  I  trust,)  to  have  begged  a  cup  of 
beer  in  his  old  age,  and  begged  it  in  vain.  The 
most  valuable  of  the  pieces  of  Selden  were  writ 
ten  in  that  famous  resort  of  great  minds,  the 
tower  of  London.  Milton,  surprised  by  want 
in  his  infirm  old  age,  sold  the  first  production  of 
the  human  mind  for  five  pounds.  The  great 
boast  of  English  philosophy  was  expelled  from 
his  place  in  Oxford,  and  kept  in  banishment, 
1  the  king  having  been  given  to  understand,'  to 
use  the  words  of  Lord  Sunderland,  who  ordered 
the  expulsion,  t  that  one  Locke  has,  upon  seve 
ral  occasions,  behaved  himself  very  factiously 
against  the  government.'  Dryden  sacrificed  his 
genius  to  the  spur  of  immediate  want.  Otway 
was  choked  with  a  morsel  of  bread,  too  raven 
ously  swallowed  after  a  long  fast.  Johnson 
was  taken  to  prison  for  a  debt  of  five  shillings ; 


37 

and  Burke  petitioned  for  a  Professorship  at 
Glasgow  and  was  denied.  When  we  survey 
these  facts  and  the  innumerable  others,  of 
which  these  are  not  even  an  adequate  specimen, 
we  may  perhaps  conclude  that,  in  whatever 
way  the  arbitrary  governments  of  Europe  have 
encouraged  letters,  it  has  not  been  in  that  of  a 
steady  cheering  patronage.  We  may  think 
there  is  abundant  reason  to  acknowledge,  that 
the  ancient  lesson  is  confirmed  by  modern  ex 
perience,  and  that  popular  institutions  are  most 
propitious  to  the  full  and  prosperous  growth  of 
intellectual  excellence. 

If  the  perfectly  organized  system  of  liberty, 
which  here  prevails,  be  thus  favorable  to  intel 
lectual  progress,  various  other  conditions  of  our 
national  existence  are  not  less  so,  particularly 
the  extension  of  one  language,  government,  and 
character,  over  so  vast  a  space  as  the  United 
States  of  America.  Hitherto,  in  the  main,  the 
world  has  seen  but  two  forms  of  social  exist 
ence,  free  governments  in  small  states,  and  arbi 
trary  governments  in  large  ones.  Though  va 
rious  shades  of  both  have  appeared,  at  different 
times,  in  the  world,  yet  on  the  whole,  the  politi- 
6 


38 

cal  ingenuity  of  man  has  never  found  out  the 
mode  of  extending  liberal  institutions  beyond 
small  districts,  or  of  governing  large  empires, 
by  any  other  means,  than  the  visible  demonstra 
tion  and  exercise  of  absolute  power.  The  ef 
fect  in  either  case  has  been  unpropitious  to  the 
growth  of  intellectual  excellence.  Free  insti 
tutions,  though  favorable  to  the  growth  of  intel 
lectual  excellence,  are  not  the  only  thing  need 
ed.  The  wandering  savage  is  free,  but  most 
of  the  powers  of  his  mind  lie  dormant,  under 
the  severe  privations  of  a  barbarous  life.  An 
infant  colony,  on  a  distant  coast,  may  be  free, 
but  for  want  of  the  necessary  mental  aliment  and 
excitement,  may  be  unable  to  rise  above  the  lim 
its  of  material  existence.  In  order  then  that  free 
institutions  may  have  their  full  and  entire  effect, 
in  producing  the  highest  attainable  degree  of 
intellectual  improvement,  they  require  to  be 
established  in  an  extensive  region,  and  over  a 
numerous  people.  This  constitutes  a  state  of 
society  entirely  new  among  men  ;  a  vast  empire 
whose  institutions  are  wholly  popular.  While 
we  experience  the  genial  influence  of  those 
principles,  which  belong  to  all  free  states,  and 
in  proportion  as  they  are  free  ;  independence  of 


39 

thought,  and  the  right  of  expressing  it ;  we  are 
to  feel  in  this  country,  we  and  those  who  succeed 
us,  all  that  excitement,  which,  in  various  ways, 
arises  from  the  reciprocal  action  upon  each 
other  of  the  parts  of  a  great  empire.  Litera 
ture,  as  has  been  partly  hinted,  is  the  voice  of 
the  age  and  the  state.  The  character,  energy, 
and  resources  of  the  country,  are  reflected  and 
imaged  forth  in  the  conceptions  of  its  great 
minds.  They  are  the  organs  of  the  time  ;  they 
speak  not  their  own  language,  they  scarce  think 
their  own  thoughts ;  but  under  an  impulse  like 
the  prophetic  enthusiasm  of  old,  they  must  feel 
and  utter  the  sentiments,  which  society  inspires. 
They  do  not  create,  they  obey  the  Spirit  of  the 
Age  ;  the  serene  and  beautiful  spirit  descended 
from  the  highest  heaven  of  liberty,  who  laughs 
at  our  little  preconceptions,  and,  with  the  breath 
of  his  mouth,  sweeps  before  him  the  men  and 
the  nations,  that  cross  his  path.  By  an  uncon 
scious  instinct,  the  mind  in  the  strong  action  of 
its  powers,  adapts  itself  to  the  number  and  com 
plexion  of  the  other  minds,  with  which  it  is  to 
enter  into  communion  or  conflict.  As  the  voice 
falls  into  the  key,  which  is  suited  to  the  space 
to  be  filled,  the  mind,  in  the  various  exercises 


40 

of  its  creative  faculties,  strives  with  curious 
search  for  that  master-note,  which  will  awaken 
a  vibration  from  the  surrounding  community, 
and  which,  if  it  do  not  find,  it  is  itself  too  often 
struck  dumb. 

For  this  reason,  from  the  moment  in  the  des 
tiny  of  nations,  that  they  descend  from  their 
culminating  point  and  begin  to  decline,  from 
that  moment  the  voice  of  creative  genius  is 
hushed,  and  at  best,  the  age  of  criticism,  learn 
ing,  and  imitation,  succeeds.  When  Greece 
ceased  to  be  independent,  the  forum  and  the 
stage  became  mute.  The  patronage  of  Mace 
donian,  Alexandrian,  and  Pergamean  princes 
was  lavished  in  vain.  They  could  not  woo  the 
healthy  Muses  of  Hellas,  from  the  cold  moun 
tain  tops  of  Greece,  to  dwell  in  their  gilded 
halls.  Nay,  though  the  fall  of  greatness,  the 
decay  of  beauty,  the  waste  of  strength,  and  the 
wreck  of  power,  have  ever  been  among  the 
favorite  themes  of  the  pensive  muse,  yet  not  a 
poet  arose  in  Greece  to  chant  her  own  elegy  ; 
and  it  is  after  near  three  centuries,  and  from 
Cicero  and  Sulpicius,  that  we  catch  the  first 
notes  of  pious  and  pathetic  lamentation  over 
the  fallen  land  of  the  arts.  The  freedom  and 


1ST  TVER: 
41 

genius  of  a  country  are  invariably  gathered  into 
a  common  tomb,  and  there 

Can  only  strangers  breathe 
The  name  of  that  which  was  beneath. 

It  is  when  we  reflect  on  this  power  of  an  auspi 
cious  future,  that  we  realize  the  prospect,  which 
smiles  upon  the  intellect  of  America.  It  may 
justly  be  accounted  the  great  peculiarity  of  an 
cient  days,  compared  with  modern,  that  in  an 
tiquity  there  was,  upon  the  whole,  but  one 
civilized  and  literary  nation  at  a  time  in  the 
world.  Art  and  refinement  followed  in  the 
train  of  political  ascendency,  from  the  East  to 
Greece  and  from  Greece  to  Rome.  In  the 
modern  world,  under  the  influence  of  various 
causes,  intellectual,  political,  and  moral,  civili 
zation  has  been  diffused  throughout  the  greater 
part  of  Europe  and  America.  Now  mark  a  sin 
gular  fatality  as  regards  the  connexion  of  this 
enlarged  and  diffused  civilization,  with  the  pro 
gress  of  letters  and  the  excitement  to  intellec 
tual  exertion  in  any  given  state.  Instead  of 
one  sole  country,  as  in  antiquity,  where  the  arts 
and  refinements  find  a  home,  there  are,  in 
modern  Europe,  seven  or  eight  equally  entitled 
to  the  general  name  of  cultivated  nations,  and 


42 

in  each  of  which  some  minds  of  the  first  order 
have  appeared.  And  yet,  by  the  unfortunate 
multiplication  of  languages,  an  obstacle  all  but 
insuperable  has  been  thrown  in  the  way  of  the 
free  progress  of  genius,  in  its  triumphant  course, 
from  region  to  region.  The  muses  of  Shak- 
speare  and  Milton,  of  Camoens,  of  Lope  de 
Vega,  and  Calderon,  of  Corneille  and  Racine, 
of  Dante  and  Tasso,  of  Goethe  and  Schiller, 
are  strangers  to  each  other. 

This  evil  was  so  keenly  felt  in  the  sixteenth 
and  seventeenth  centuries,  that  the  Latin  lan 
guage  was  widely  adopted  as  a  dialect  common 
to  scholars.  We  see  men  like  Luther,  Calvin, 
and  Erasmus,  Bacon,  Grotius,  and  Thuanus, 
who  could  scarce  have  written  a  line  without 
exciting  the  admiration  of  their  contemporaries, 
driven  to  the  use  of  a  tongue,  which  none  but 
the  learned  could  understand.  For  the  sake  of 
addressing  the  scholars  of  other  countries,  these 
great  men,  and  others  like  them,  in  many  of 
their  writings,  were  obliged  to  cut  themselves 
off,  from  all  sympathy  with  the  mass  of  those, 
whom  as  patriots  they  must  have  wished  most  to 
instruct.  In  works  of  pure  science  and  learn 
ed  criticism,  this  is  of  less  consequence  ;  for 


4S 

being  independent  of  sentiment,  it  matters  less 
how  remote  from  real  life  the  symbols,  in  which 
their  ideas  are  conveyed.  But  when  we  see  a 
writer  like  Milton,  who,  more  than  any  other, 
whom  England  ever  produced,  was  a  master  of 
the  music  of  his  native  tongue,  who,  besides  all 
the  eloquence  of  thought  and  imagery,  knew 
better  than  any  other  man  how  to  clothe  them, 
according  to  his  own  beautiful  expression, 

In  notes,  with  many  a  winding  bout 
Of  linked  sweetness,  long  drawn  out, 
With  wanton  heed  and  giddy  cunning, 
The  melting  voice  through  mazes  running, 
Untwisting  all  the  chains  that  tie 
The  hidden  soul  of  harmony ; 

when  we  see  a  master  of  English  eloquence  thus 
gifted,  choosing  a  dead  language,  the  dialect  of 
the  closet,  a  tongue  without  an  echo  from  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  as  the  vehicle  of  his  defence 
of  that  people's  rights ;  asserting  the  cause  of 
Englishmen  in  the  language,  as  it  may  be  truly 
called,  of  Cicero ;  we  can  only  measure  the  in 
congruity,  by  reflecting  what  Cicero  would  him 
self  have  thought  and  felt,  if  called  to  defend  the 
cause  of  Roman  freedom,  not  in  the  language 
of  the  Roman  citizen*  but  in  that  of  the  Chal- 


44 

deans  or  Assyrians,  or  some  people  still  farther 
remote  in  the  history  of  the  world.  There  is 
little  doubt  that  the  prevalence  of  the  Latin  lan 
guage  among  modern  scholars,  was  a  great  cause 
not  only  of  the  slow  progress  of  letters  among 
the  lower  ranks,  but  of  the  stiffness  and  con 
straint  formerly  visible  in  the  vernacular  style  of 
most  scholars  themselves.  That  the  reforma 
tion  in  religion  advanced  with  such  rapidity,  is 
doubtless  in  no  small  degree  to  be  attributed  to 
the  translations  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  use  of 
liturgies  in  the  modern  tongues.  While  the  pre 
servation  in  England  of  a  strange  language — I 
will  not  sin  against  the  majesty  of  Rome  by 
calling  it  Latin — in  legal  acts,  down  to  so  late  a 
period  as  1730,  may  be  one  cause,  that  the  prac 
tical  forms  of  administering  justice  have  not 
been  made  to  keep  pace  with  the  popular  views, 
that  have  triumphed  in  other  things.  With  the 
erection  of  popular  institutions  under  Cromwell, 
among  various  other  legal  improvements,*  very 
many  of  which  were  speedily  adopted  by  our 
plain  dealing  forefathers,  the  records  of  the  law 
were  ordered  to  be  kept  in  English ;  '  A  novel- 

*  See  a  number  of  them  in  Lord  Somers'  Tracts,  vol*  i. 


45 

ty,'  says  the  learned  commentator  on  the  Eng 
lish  laws,  '  which  at  the  restoration  was  no 
longer  continued,  practisers  having  found  it  very 
difficult  to  express  themselves  so  concisely  or 
significantly  in  any  other  language  but  Latin  ;'* 
an  argument  for  the  use  of  that  language,  whoso 
soundness  it  must  be  left  to  clients  to  estimate. 
Nor  are  the  other  remedies  more  efficacious, 
which  have  been  attempted  for  the  evil  of  a 
multiplicity  of  tongues.  Something  is  done  by 
translations  and  something  by  the  acquisition  of 
foreign  languages.  But  that  no  effectual  trans 
fusion  of  the  higher  literature  of  a  country  can 
take  place,  in  the  \vay  of  translation,  is  matter 
of  notoriety ;  and  it  is  a  remark  of  one  of  the 
few,  who  could  have  courage  to  make  such 
a  remark,  Madame  de  Stael,  that  it  is  impossible 
fully  to  comprehend  the  literature  of  a  foreign 
tongue.  The  general  preference  given  to 
Young's  Night  Thoughts  and  Ossian,  over  all  the 
other  English  poets,  in  many  parts  of  the  conti 
nent  of  Europe,  seems  to  confirm  the  justice  of 
the  observation.  There  is,  indeed,  an  influence 
of  exalted  genius  coextensive  with  the  earth. 

*  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  vol.  iii.  422. 
7 


46 

Something  of  its  power  will  be  felt,  in  spite  of 
the  obstacles  of  different  languages,  remote  re 
gions,  and  other  times.  But  its  true  empire,  its 
lawful  sway,  are  at  home  and  over  the  hearts  of 
kindred  men.  A  charm,  which  nothing  can 
borrow,  nothing  counterfeit,  nothing  dispense 
with,  resides  in  the  simple  sound  of  our  mother 
tongue.  Not  analyzed,  nor  reasoned  upon,  it 
unites  the  earliest  associations  of  life  with  the 
maturest  conceptions  of  the  understanding. 
The  heart  is  willing  to  open  all  its  avenues  to 
the  language,  in  which  its  infantile  caprices 
were  soothed  ;  and  by  the  curious  efficacy  of  the 
principal  association,  it  is  this  echo  from  the 
feeble  dawn  of  life,  which  gives  to  eloquence 
much  of  its  manly  power,  and  to  poetry  much 
of  its  divine  charm.  This  feeling  of  the  music 
of  our  native  language  is  the  first  intellectual 
capacity  that  is  developed  in  children,  and  when 
by  age  or  misfortune, 

(  The  ear  is  all  unstrung, 
Still,  still,  it  loves  the  lowland  tongue/ 

What  a  noble  prospect  is  opened  in  this  connex 
ion  for  the  circulation  of  thought  and  sentiment 
in  our  country !  Instead  of  that  multiplicity  of 
dialect,  by  which  mental  communication  and 


47 

sympathy  are  cut  off  in  the  old  world,  a  contin 
ually  expanding  realm  is  opened  and  opening  to 
American  intellect,  in  the  community  of  our  lan 
guage,  throughout  the  wide  spread  settlements 
of  this  continent.  The  enginery  of  the  press 
will  here,  for  the  first  time,  be  brought  to  bear, 
with  all  its  mighty  power,  on  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  men,  in  exchanging  intelligence,  and 
circulating  opinions,  unchecked  by  the  diversity 
of  language,  over  an  empire  more  extensive 
than  the  whole  of  Europe. 

And  this  community  of  language,  all  import 
ant  as  it  is,  is  but  a  part  of  the  manifold  bro 
therhood,  which  unites  and  will  unite  the  growing 
millions  of  America.  In  Europe,  the  work  of 
international  alienation,  which  begins  in  diver 
sity  of  language,  is  carried  on  and  consum 
mated  by  diversity  of  government,  institutions, 
national  descent,  and  national  prejudices.  In 
crossing  the  principal  rivers,  channels,  and  moun 
tains,  in  that  quarter  of  the  world,  you  are  met, 
not  only  by  new  tongues,  but  by  new  forms  of 
government,  new  associations  of  ancestry,  new 
and  generally  hostile  objects  of  national  boast 
and  gratulation.  While  on  the  other  hand, 
throughout  the  vast  regions  included  within  the 


48 

limits  of  our  Republic,  not  only  the  same  lan 
guage,  but  the  same  laws,  the  same  national  go 
vernment,  the  same  republican  institutions,  and 
a  common  ancestral  association  prevail,  and  will 
diffuse  themselves.  Mankind  will  here  exist,, 
move,  and  act  in  a  kindred  mass,  such  as  was 
never  before  congregated  on  the  earth's  surface. 
The  necessary  consequences  of  such  a  cause 
overpower  the  imagination.  What  would  be 
the  effect  on  the  intellectual  state  of  Europe,  at 
the  present  day,  were  all  her  nations  and  tribes 
amalgamated  into  one  vast  empire,  speaking  the 
same  tongue,  united  into  one  political  system, 
and  that  a  free  one,  and  opening  one  broad 
unobstructed  pathway  for  the  interchange  of 
thought  and  feeling,  from  Lisbon  to  Archangel. 
If  effects  are  to  bear  a  constant  proportion  to 
their  causes ;  if  the  energy  of  thought  is  to  be 
commensurate  with  the  masses  which  prompt  it, 
and  the  masses  it  must  penetrate  ;  if  eloquence 
is  to  grow  in  fervor  with  the  weight  of  the  in 
terests  it  is  to  plead,  and  the  grandeur  of  the 
assemblies  it  addresses ;  if  efforts  rise  with  the 
glory  that  is  to  crown  them  ;  in  a  word,  if  the 
faculties  of  the  human  mind,  as  we  firmly  be 
lieve,  are  capable  of  tension  and  achievement 
altogether  indefinite ; 


49 

Nil  actum  reputans,  dum  quid  superesset  agendum, 
then  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  a  new  era 
will  open  on  the  intellectual  world,  in  the  fulfil 
ment  of  our  country's  prospects.  By  the  sove 
reign  efficacy  of  the  partition  of  powers  be 
tween  the  national  and  state  governments,  in 
virtue  of  which  the  national  government  is 
relieved  from  all  the  odium  of  internal  adminis 
tration,  and  the  state  governments  are  spared 
the  conflicts  of  foreign  politics,  all  bounds  seem 
removed  from  the  possible  extension  of  our 
country,  but  the  geographical  limits  of  the  con 
tinent.  Instead  of  growing  cumbrous,  as  it 
increases  in  size,  there  never  was  a  moment 
since  the  first  settlement  in  Virginia,  when  the 
political  system  of  America  moved  with  so  firm 
and  bold  a  step  as  at  the  present  day.  If  there 
is  any  faith  in  our  country's  auspices,  this  great 
continent,  in  no  remote  futurity,  will  be  filled 
up  with  a  homogeneous  population  ;  with  the 
mightiest  kindred  people  known  in  history ; 
our  language  will  acquire  an  extension,  which 
no  other  ever  possessed  ;  and  the  empire  of  the 
mind,  with  nothing  to  resist  its  sway,  will  attain 
an  expansion,  of  which  as  yet  we  can  but  partly 
conceive.  The  vision  is  too  magnificent  to  be 


50 

fully  borne  ; — a  mass  of  two  or  three  hundred 
millions,  not  chained  to  the  oar  like  the  same 
number  in  China,  by  a  brutalizing  despotism, 
but  held  in  their  several  orbits  of  nation  and 
state,  by  the  grand  representative  attraction ; 
bringing  to  bear  on  every  point  the  concentrated 
energy  of  such  a  host ;  calling  into  competi 
tion  so  many  minds ;  uniting  into  one  great 
national  feeling  the  hearts  of  so  many  freemen ; 
all  to  be  guided,  persuaded,  moved,  and  swayed* 
by  the  master  spirits  of  the  time  ! 

Let  me  not  be  told  that  this  is  a  chimerical 
imagination  of  a  future  indefinitely  removed ; 
let  me  not  hear  repeated  the  ribaldry  of  an  an 
ticipation  of  '  two  thousand  years,' — of  a  vision 
that  requires  for  its  fulfilment  a  length  of  ages 
beyond  the  grasp  of  any  reasonable  computa 
tion.  It  is  the  last  point  of  peculiarity  in  our 
condition,  to  which  I  invite  your  attention,  as 
affecting  the  progress  of  intellect  in  the  country, 
that  it  is  growing  with  a  rapidity  hitherto  en 
tirely  without  example  in  the  world.  For  the 
two  hundred  years  of  our  existence,  the  popu 
lation  has  doubled  itself,  in  periods  of  less  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century.  In  the  infancy  of  the 
country,  and  while  our  numbers  remained  within 


51 

the  limits  of  a  youthful  colony,  a  progress  so 
rapid  as  this,  however  important  in  the  princi 
ple  of  growth  disclosed,  was  not  yet  a  circum 
stance  strongly  to  fix  the  attention.  But  ar 
rived  at  a  population  of  ten  millions,  it  is  a  fact 
of  the  most  overpowering  interest,  that,  within 
less  than  twenty  five  years,  these  ten  millions 
will  have  swelled  to  twenty  ;  that  the  younger 
members  of  this  audience  will  be  citizens  of  the 
largest  civilized  state  on  earth ;  that  in  a  few 
years  more  than  one  century,  the  American 
population  will  equal  the  fabulous  numbers  of 
the  Chinese  empire.  This  rate  of  increase  has 
already  produced  the  most  striking  phenomena. 
A  few  weeks  after  the  opening  of  the  Revolu 
tionary  drama  at  Lexington,  the  momentous 
intelligence,  that  the  first  blood  was  spilt,  reach 
ed  a  party  of  hunters  beyond  the  Alleghanies, 
who  had  wandered  far  into  the  western  wilder 
ness.  In  prophetic  commemoration  of  the  glo 
rious  event,  they  gave  the  name  of  Lexington 
to  the  spot  of  their  encampment  in  the  woods. 
That  spot  is  now  the  capital  of  a  state  larger 
than  Massachusetts ;  it  is  the  seat  of  an  univer 
sity  as  fully  attended  as  our  venerable  Alma 
Mater ;  nay  more  it  is  the  capital  of  a  state 


52 

from  which,  in  the  language  of  one  of  her  own 
citizens,  whose  eloquence  is  the  ornament  of  his 
country,  the  tide  of  emigration  still  farther  west 
ward  is  more  fully  pouring  than  from  any  other 
in  the  union.* 

I  need  not  say  that  this  astonishing  increase 
of  numbers,  is  by  no  means  the  limit  and  mea 
sure  of  our  country's  growth.  Arts,  agriculture, 
all  the  great  national  interests,  all  the  sources 
of  national  wealth,  are  growing  in  a  ratio  still 
more  rapid.  In  our  cities  the  intensest  activity 
is  apparent;  in  the  country  every  spring  of 
prosperity,  from  the  smallest  improvement  in 
husbandry  to  the  construction  of  canals  across 
the  continent  is  in  vigorous  action  ;  abroad  our 
vessels  are  beating  the  pathways  of  the  ocean 
white ;  on  the  inland  frontier,  the  nation  is 
journeying  on,  like  a  healthy  giant,  with  a  pace 
more  like  romance  than  reality. 

These  facts,  and  thousands  like  them,  form 
one  of  those  peculiarities  in  our  country's  con 
dition,  which  will  have  the  most  powerful  influ 
ence  on  the  minds  of  its  children.  The  popu 
lation  of  several  states  of  Europe  has  reached 
its  term.  In  some  it  is  declining,  in  some  sta- 

*  Mr  Clay's  late  Speech  on  Internal  Improvements. 


53 

tionary,  and  in  the  most  prosperous,  under  the 
extraordinary  stimulus  of  the  last  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  it  doubles  itself  but  about 
once  in  seventy  five  years.  In  consequence  of 
this,  the  process  of  social  transmission  is  heavy 
and  slow.  Men,  not  adventitiously  favored, 
come  late  into  life,  and  the  best  years  of  exist 
ence  are  exhausted  in  languishing  competition. 
The  man  grows  up,  and  in  the  stern  language 
of  one  of  their  most  renowned  economists,*  finds 
no  cover  laid  for  him  at  Nature's  table.  The 
smallest  official  provision  is  a  boon,  at  which 
great  minds  are  not  ashamed  to  grasp  ;  the 
assurance  of  the  most  frugal  subsistence  com 
mands  the  brightest  talents  and  the  most  labor 
ious  studies ;  poor  wages  pay  for  the  unremit- 
ted  labor  of  the  most  curious  hands  ;  and  it  is 
the  smallest  part  of  the  population  only  that  is 
within  the  reach  even  of  these  humiliating  springs 
of  action.  We  need  not  labor  to  contrast  this 
state  of  things  with  the  teeming  growth  and 
noble  expansion  of  all  our  institutions  and  re 
sources.  Instead  of  being  shut  up,  as  it  were, 
in  the  prison  of  a  stationary,  or  a  very  slowly 


*Mr  Malthus. 
8 


54 

progressive  community,  the  emulation  of  our 
countrymen  is  drawn  out  and  tempted  on,  by  a 
horizon  constantly  receding  before  them.  New 
nations  of  kindred  freemen  are  springing  up  in 
successive  periods,  shorter  even  than  the  active 
portion  of  the  life  of  man.  '  While  we  spend 
our  time,'  says  Burke  on  this  topic,  *  in  delib 
erating  on  the  mode  of  governing  two  millions 
in  America,  we  shall  find  we  have  millions  more 
to  manage.*'  Many  individuals  are  in  this 
house,  who  were  arrived  at  years  of  discretion 
when  these  words  of  Burke  were  uttered,  and 
the  two  millions,  which  Great  Britain  was  then 
to  manage,  have  grown  into  ten,  exceedingly  un 
manageable.  The  most  affecting  view  of  this 
subject  is,  that  it  puts  it  in  the  power  of  the 
wise,  and  good,  and  great  to  gather,  while  they 
live,  the  ripest  fruits  of  their  labors.  Where,  in 
human  history  is  to  be  found  a  contrast  like  that, 
which  the  last  fifty  years  have  crowded  into  the 
lives  of  those  favored  men,  who  raising  their 
hands  or  their  voices,  when  our  little  bands  were 
led  out  to  the  perilous  conflict  with  one  of  the 
most  powerful  empires  on  earth,  have  lived  to 

*  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America,  March  22,  1775. 


55 

be  crowned  with  the  highest  honors  of  the  Re 
public,  which  they  established?  Honor  to  their 
grey  hairs,  and  peace  and  serenity  to  the  even 
ing  of  their  eventful  days  ! 

Though  it  may  never  again  be  the  fortune  of 
our  country  to  bring  within  the  compass  of  half 
a  century  a  contrast  so  dazzling  as  this,  yet 
in  its  grand  and  steady  progress,  the  career  of 
duty  and  usefulness  will  be  run  by  all  its  chil 
dren,  under  a  constantly  increasing  stimulus. 
The  voice,  which,  in  the  morning  of  life,  shall 
awaken  the  patriotic  sympathy  of  the  land,  will 
be  echoed  back  by  a  community,  incalculably 
swelled  in  all  its  proportions,  before  it  shall  be 
hushed  in  death.  The  writer,  by  whom  the 
noble  features  of  our  scenery  shall  be  sketched 
with  a  glowing  pencil,  the  traits  of  our  roman 
tic  early  history  gathered  up  with  filial  zeal, 
and  the  peculiarities  of  our  character  seized 
with  delicate  perception,  cannot  mount  so  en 
tirely  and  rapidly  to  success,  but  that  ten  years 
will  add  new  millions  to  the  numbers  of  his 
readers.  The  American  statesman,  the  orator, 
whose  voice  is  already  heard  in  its  supremacy, 
from  Florida  to  Maine,  whose  intellectual  em 
pire  already  extends  beyond  the  limits  of  Alex- 


56 

ander's,  has  yet  new  states  and  new  nations 
starting  into  being,  the  willing  tributaries  to  his 
sway. 

This  march  of  our  population  westward  has 
been  attended  with  consequences  in  some  de 
gree  novel,  in  the  history  of  the  human  mind. 
It  is  a  fact,  somewhat  difficult  of  explanation, 
that  the  refinement  of  the  ancient  nations 
seemed  almost  wholly  devoid  of  an  elastic  and 
expansive  principle.  The  arts  of  Greece  were 
enchained  to  her  islands  and  her  coasts ;  they 
did  not  penetrate  the  interior.  The  language 
and  literature  of  Athens  were  as  unknown,  to 
the  north  of  Pindus,  at  a  distance  of  two  hun 
dred  miles  from  the  capital  of  Grecian  refine 
ment,  as  they  were  in  Scythia.  Thrace,  whose 
mountain  tops  may  almost  be  seen  from  the 
porch  of  the  temple  of  Minerva  at  Sunium, 
was  the  proverbial  abode  of  barbarism.  Though 
the  colonies  of  Greece  were  scattered  on  the 
coasts  of  Italy,  of  France,  of  Spain,  and  of 
Africa,  no  extension  of  their  population  toward 
the  interior  took  place,  and  the  arts  did  not 
penetrate  beyond  the  walls  of  the  cities,  where 
they  were  cultivated.  How  different  is  the  pic 
ture  of  the  diffusion  of  the  arts  and  improve- 


57 

merits  of  civilization,  from  the  coast  to  the 
interior  of  America !  Population  advances 
westward  with  a  rapidity,  which  numbers  may 
describe  indeed  but  cannot  represent,  with  any 
vivacity,  to  the  mind.  The  wilderness,  which 
one  year  is  impassable,  is  traversed  the  next  by 
the  caravans  of  the  industrious  emigrants,  who 
go  to  follow  the  setting  sun,  with  the  language, 
the  institutions,  and  the  arts  of  civilized  life. 
It  is  not  the  irruption  of  wild  barbarians,  come 
to  visit  the  wrath  of  God  on  a  degenerate  em 
pire  ;  it  is  not  the  inroad  of  disciplined  ban 
ditti,  marshalled  by  the  intrigues  of  ministers 
and  kings.  It  is  the  human  family  led  out  to 
possess  its  broad  patrimony.  The  states  and 
nations,  which  are  springing  up  in  the  valley  of 
the  Missouri,  are  bound  to  us,  by  the  dearest  ties 
of  a  common  language,  a  common  government, 
and  a  common  descent.  Before  New-England 
can  look  with  coldness  on  their  rising  myriads, 
she  must  forget  that  some  of  the  best  of  her 
own  blood  is  beating  in  their  veins ;  that  her 
hardy  children,  with  their  axes  on  their  shoulders, 
have  been  literally  among  the  pioneers  in  this 
march  of  humanity  ;  that  young  as  she  is,  she 
has  become  the  mother  of  populous  states. 


58 

What  generous  mind  would  sacrifice  to  a  selfish 
preservation  of  local  preponderance,  the  delight 
of  beholding  civilized  nations  rising  up  in  the  de 
sert  ;  and  the  language,  the  manners,  the  insti 
tutions,  to  which  he  has  been  reared,  carried 
with  his  household  gods  to  the  foot  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  ?  Who  can  forget  that  this 
extension  of  our  territorial  limits  is  the  exten 
sion  of  the  empire  of  all  we  hold  dear ;  of  our 
laws,  of  our  character,  of  the  memory  of  our 
ancestors,  of  the  great  achievements  in  our  his 
tory  ?  Whithersoever  the  sons  of  the  thirteen 
states  shall  wander,  to  southern  or  western 
climes,  they  will  send  back  their  hearts  to  the 
rocky  shores,  the  battle  fields,  and  the  intrepid 
councils  of  the  Atlantic  coast.  These  are 
placed  beyond  the  reach  of  vicissitude.  They 
have  become  already  matter  of  history,  of  poe 
try,  of  eloquence  : 

The  love,  where  death  has  set  his  seal, 
Nor  age  can  chill,  nor  rival  steal, 
Nor  falsehood  disavow. 

Divisions  may  spring  up,  ill  blood  arise,  par 
ties  be  formed,  and  interests  may  seem  to  clash ; 
but  the  great  bonds  of  the  nation  are  linked  to 
what  is  passed.  The  deeds  of  the  great  men,  to 


59 

whom  this  country  owes  its  origin  and  growth, 
are  a  patrimony,  I  know,  of  which  its  children 
will  never  deprive  themselves.  As  long  as  the 
Mississippi  and  the  Missouri  shall  flow,  those 
men  and  those  deeds  will  be  remembered  on 
their  banks.  The  sceptre  of  government  may 
go  where  it  will ;  but  that  of  patriotic  feeling 
can  never  depart  from  Judah.  In  all  that  mighty 
region,  which  is  drained  by  the  Missouri  and 
its  tributary  streams — the  valley  coextensive 
with  the  temperate  zone — will  there  be,  as  long 
as  the  name  of  America  shall  last,  a  father,  that 
will  not  take  his  children  on  his  knee  and  re 
count  to  them  the  events  of  the  twentieth  of 
December,  the  nineteenth  of  April,  the  seven 
teenth  of  June,  and  the  fourth  of  July  ? 

This  then  is  the  theatre,  on  which  the  intel 
lect  of  America  is  to  appear,  and  such  the 
motives  to  its  exertion ;  such  the  mass  to  be  in 
fluenced  by  its  energies,  such  the  crowd  to  wit 
ness  its  efforts,  such  the  glory  to  crown  its  suc 
cess.  If  I  err,  in  this  happy  vision  of  my  coun 
try's  fortunes,  I  thank  God  for  an  error  so 
animating.  If  this  be  false,  may  I  never  know 
the  truth.  Never  may  you,  my  friends,  be  under 


60 

any  other  feeling,  than  that  a  great,  a  growing, 
an  immeasurably  expanding  country  is  calling 
upon  you  for  your  best  services.  The  name  arid 
character  of  our  Alma  Mater  have  already  been 
carried  by  some  of  our  brethren  thousands  of 
miles  from  her  venerable  walls ;  and  thousands 
of  miles  still  farther  westward,  the  communities 
of  kindred  men  are  fast  gathering,  whose  minds 
and  hearts  will  act  in  sympathy  with  yours. 

The  most  powerful  motives  call  on  us  as 
scholars  for  those  efforts,  which  our  common 
country  demands  of  all  her  children.  Most  of 
us  are  of  that  class,  who  owe  whatever  of 
knowledge  has  shone  into  our  minds,  to  the 
free  and  popular  institutions  of  our  native  land. 
There  are  few  of  us,  who  may  not  be  permitted 
to  boast,  that  we  have  been  reared  in  an  honest 
poverty  or  a  frugal  competence,  and  owe  every 
thing  to  those  means  of  education,  which  are 
equally  open  to  all.  We  are  summoned  to  new 
energy  and  zeal  by  the  high  nature  of  the  ex 
periment  we  are  appointed  in  Providence  to 
make,'  and  the  grandeur  of  the  theatre  on  which 
it  is  to  be  performed.  When  the  old  world  af 
forded  no  longer  any  hope,  it  pleased  Heaven 
to  open  this  last  refuge  of  humanity.  The  at- 


61 

tempt  has  begun,  and  is  going  on,  far  from  foreign 
corruption,  on  the  broadest  scale,  and  under 
the  most  benignant  auspices ;  and  it  certainly 
rests  with  us  to  solve  the  great  problem  in  hu 
man  society,  to  settle,  and  that  forever,  the  mo 
mentous  question — whether  mankind  can  be 
trusted  with  a  purely  popular  system  ?  One 
might  almost  think,  without  extravagance,  that 
the  departed  wise  and  good  of  all  places  and 
times,  are  looking  down  from  their  happy  seats 
to  witness  what  shall  now  be  done  by  us  ;  that 
they  who  lavished  their  treasures  and  their  blood 
of  old,  who  labored  and  suffered,  who  spake 
and  wrote,  who  fought  and  perished,  in  the  one 
great  cause  of  Freedom  and  Truth,  are  now 
hanging  from  their  orbs  on  high,  over  the  last 
solemn  experiment  of  humanity.  As  I  have 
wandered  over  the  spots,  once  the  scene  of 
their  labors,  and  mused  among  the  prostrate 
columns  of  their  Senate  Houses  and  Forums,  I 
have  seemed  almost  to  hear  a  voice  from  the 
tombs  of  departed  ages ;  from  the  sepulchres  of 
the  nations,  which  died  before  the  sight.  They 
exhort  us,  they  adjure  us  to  be  faithful  to  our 
trust.  They  implore  us,  by  the  long  trials  of 
struggling  humanity,  by  the  blessed  memory  of 
9 


62 

the  departed  ;  by  the  dear  faith,  which  has  been 
plighted  by  pure  hands,  to  the  holy  cause  of 
truth  and  man  ;  by  the  awful  secrets  of  the 
prison  houses,  where  the  sons  of  freedom  have 
been  immured  ;  by  the  noble  heads  which  have 
been  brought  to  the  block  ;  by  the  wrecks  of 
time,  by  the  eloquent  ruins  of  nations,  they  con 
jure  us  not  to  quench  the  light  which  is  rising 
on  the  world.  Greece  cries  to  us,  by  the  con 
vulsed  lips  of  her  poisoned,  dying  Demosthenes  ; 
and  Rome  pleads  with  us  in  the  mute  persuasion 
of  her  mangled  Tully.  They  address  us  each 
and  all  in  the  glorious  language  of  Milton,  to 
one,  who  might  have  canonized  his  memory  in 
the  hearts  of  the  friends  of  liberty,  but  who 
did  most  shamefully  betray  the  cause,  '  Reverere 
tantam  de  te  expectationem,  spem  patriaB  de  te 
unicam.  Reverere  vultus  et  vulnera  tot  for- 
tium  virorum,  quotquot  pro  libertate  tarn  strenue 
decertarunt,  manes  etiam  eorum  qui  in  ipso  cer- 
tamine  occubuerunt.  Reverere  exterarum  quo- 
que  civitatum  existimationem  de  te  atque  ser- 
mones ;  quantas  res  de  libertate  nostra  tarn 
fortiter  parta,  de  nostra  republica  tarn  gloriose 
exorta  sibi  polliceantur ;  qua3  si  tarn  cito  quasi 


6S 

aborta  evanuerit,  profecto  nihil  seque  dedecoro- 
sum  huic  genti  atque  periculosum  fucrit.*' 

Yes,  my  friends,  such  is  the  exhortation  which 
calls  on  us  to  exert  our  powers,  to  employ  our 
time,  and  consecrate  our  labors  in  the  cause  of 
our  native  land.  When  we  engage  in  that  solemn 
study,  the  history  of  our  race,  when  we  survey 
the  progress  of  man,  from  his  cradle  in  the  East 
to  these  last  limits  of  his  wandering  ;  when  we 
behold  him  forever  flying  westward  from  civil  and 
religious  thraldom,  bearing  his  household  gods 
over  mountains  and  seas,  seeking  rest  and  find 
ing  none,  but  still  pursuing  the  flying  bow  of 
promise,  to  the  glittering  hills  which  it  spans  in 
Hesperian  climes,  we  cannot  but  exclaim  with 
Bishop  Berkeley,  the  generous  prelate  of  Eng 
land,  who  bestowed  his  benefactions,  as  well  as 
blessings,  on  our  country. 

Westward  the  Star  of  Empire  takes  its  way  ; 

The  four  first  acts  already  past, 
The  fifth  shall  close  the  drama  with  the  day  ; 

Time's  noblest  offspring  is  the  last. 

In  that  high  romance,  if  romance  it  be,  in 
which  the  great  minds  of  antiquity  sketched  the 
fortunes  of  the  ages  to  come,  they  pictured  to 

*  Milton's  Defensio  Secunda. 


64 

themselves  a  favored  region  beyond  the  ocean,  a 
land  of  equal  laws  and  happy  men.  The  primi 
tive  poets  beheld  it  in  the  islands  of  the  blest ; 
the  Doric  bards  surveyed  it  in  the  Hyperborean 
regions ;  the  sage  of  the  academy  placed  it  in 
the  lost  Atlantis  ;  and  even  the  sterner  spirit  of 
Seneca  could  discern  a  fairer  abode  of  humani 
ty,  in  distant  regions  then  unknown.  We  look 
back  upon  these  uninspired  predictions,  and 
almost  recoil  from  the  obligation  they  imply. 
By  us  must  these  fair  visions  be  realized,  by  us 
must  be  fulfilled  these  high  promises,  which 
burst  in  trying  hours  from  the  longing  hearts  of 
the  champions  of  truth.  There  are  no  more 
continents  or  worlds  to  be  revealed;  Atlantis 
hath  arisen  from  the  ocean,  the  farthest  Thule  is 
reached,  there  are  no  more  retreats  beyond  the 
sea,  no  more  discoveries,  no  more  hopes.  Here 
then  a  mighty  work  is  to  be  fulfilled,  or  never, 
by  the  race  of  mortals.  The  man,  who  looks 
with  tenderness  on  the  sufferings  of  good  men 
in  other  times ;  the  descendant  of  the  pilgrims, 
who  cherishes  the  memory  of  his  fathers ;  the 
patriot,  who  feels  an  honest  glow  at  the  ma 
jesty  of  the  system  of  which  he  is  a  member ; 
the  scholar,  who  beholds  with  rapture  the  long 


65 

sealed  book  of  unprejudiced  truth  expanded  to 
all  to  read ;  these  are  they,  by  whom  these  au 
spices  are  to  be  accomplished.  Yes,  brethren, 
it  is  by  the  intellect  of  the  country,  that  the 
mighty  mass  is  to  be  inspired ;  that  its  parts  are 
to  communicate  and  sympathise,  its  bright  pro 
gress  to  be  adorned  with  becoming  refinements, 
its  strong  sense  uttered,  its  character  reflected, 
its  feelings  interpreted  to  its  own  children,  to 
other  regions,  and  to  after  ages. 

Meantime  the  years  are  rapidly  passing  away 
and  gathering  importance  in  their  course.  With 
the  present  year  will  be  completed  the  half 
century  from  that  most  important  era  in  human 
history,  the  commencement  of  our  revolutionary 
war.  The  jubilee  of  our  national  existence  is 
at  hand.  The  space  of  time,  that  has  elapsed 
from  that  momentous  date,  has  laid  down  in  the 
dust,  which  the  blood  of  many  of  them  had  al 
ready  hallowed,  most  of  the  great  men  to  whom, 
under  Providence,  we  owe  our  national  exist 
ence  and  privileges.  A  few  still  survive  among 
us,  to  reap  the  rich  fruits  of  their  labors  and 
sufferings  ;  and  One  has  yielded  himself  to  the 
united  voice  of  a  people,  and  returned  in  his 
age,  to  receive  the  gratitude  of  the  nation,  to 


66 

whom  he  devoted  his  youth.  It  is  recorded  on 
the  pages  of  American  history,  that  when  this 
friend  of  our  country  applied  to  our  commission 
ers  at  Paris,  in  1776,  for  a  passage  in  the  first 
ship  they  should  despatch  to  America,  they 
were  obliged  to  answer  him,  (so  low  and  abject 
was  then  our  dear  native  land,)  that  they  pos 
sessed  not  the  means  nor  the  credit  sufficient 
for  providing  a  single  vessel,  in  all  the  ports  of 
France.  Then,  exclaimed  the  youthful  hero,  'I 
will  provide  my  own;'  and  it  is  a  literal  fact, 
that  when  all  America  was  too  poor  to  offer  him 
so  much  as  a  passage  to  her  shores,  he  left,  in 
his  tender  youth,  the  bosom  of  home,  of  happi 
ness,  of  wealth,  of  rank,  to  plunge  in  the  dust 
and  blood  of  our  inauspicious  struggle. 

Welcome,  friend  of  our  fathers,  to  our  shores ! 
Happy  are  our  eyes  that  behold  those  venerable 
features.  Enjoy  a  triumph,  such  as  never  con 
queror  or  monarch  enjoyed,  the  assurance  that 
throughout  America,  there  is  not  a  bosom,  which 
does  not  beat  with  joy  and  gratitude  at  the 
sound  of  your  name.  You  have  already  met 
and  saluted,  or  will  soon  meet,  the  few  that  re 
main  of  the  ardent  patriots,  prudent  counsellors, 
and  brave  warriors  with  whom  you  were  associ- 


67 

ated  in  achieving  our  liberty.  But  you  have 
looked  round  in  vain  for  the  faces  of  many,  who 
would  have  lived  years  of  pleasure  on  a  day  like 
this,  with  their  old  companion  in  arms  and 
brother  in  peril.  Lincoln,  and  Greene,  and 
Knox,  and  Hamilton,  are  gone ;  the  heroes  of 
Saratoga  and  Yorktown  have  fallen,  before  the 
only  foe  they  could  not  meet.  Above  all,  the 
first  of  heroes  and  of  men,  the  friend  of  your 
youth,  the  more  than  friend  of  his  country,  rests 
in  the  bosom  of  the  soil  he  redeemed.  On  the 
banks  of  his  Potomac,  he  lies  in  glory  and 
peace.  You  will  revisit  the  hospitable  shades 
of  Mount  Vernon,  but  him  whom  you  venerated 
as  we  did,  you  will  not  meet  at  its  door.  His 
voice  of  consolation,  which  reached  you  in  the 
Austrian  dungeons,  cannot  now  break  its  si 
lence,  to  bid  you  welcome  to  his  own  roof.  But 
the  grateful  children  of  America  will  bid  you 
welcome,  in  his  name.  Welcome,  thrice  wel 
come  to  our  shores ;  and  whithersoever  through 
out  the  limits  of  the  continent  your  course  shall 
take  you,  the  ear  that  hears  you  shall  bless  you, 
the  eye  that  sees  you  shall  bear  witness  to  you, 
and  every  tongue  exclaim,  with  heartfelt  joy, 
welcome,  welcome  La  Fayette  ! 


AN 


ORATION 


DELIVERED  AT   PLYMOUTH 


DECEMBER  22,  1824. 


BY  EDWARD  EVERETT. 


iloston. 

CUMMINGS,  MILLIARD  &.  CO.  134  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

1825. 


Sifetrtct  of  i&assadiusetts  :  to  toft 


BE  IT  REMEMBKRED,  That  on  the  thirteenth  day  of  January  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty  -five,  and  in 
the  forty-ninth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
CUMMINGS,  BILLIARD  &  Co.  of  the  said  District,  have  deposited  in  this 
office,  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  they  claim  as  proprietors,  in 
the  words  following,  to  wit  : 

"  An  Oration  delivered  at  Plymouth  December  22,  1824.  By  EDWARD 
EVERETT." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled, 
"  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of 
Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies, 
during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;"  and  also  to  an  act,  entitled  "  An 
act,  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled  an  act  for  the  encouragement  of 
learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  au 
thors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ; 
and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving, 
and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

J  IN  \)  .    VV  . 


Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


I.  R.  BUTTS,  Printer. 
Press  of  the  North  American  Review. 


Plymouth,  December  23,  1824. 
PROFESSOR  EDWARD  EVERETT, 

SIR, — In  obedience  to  a  vote  of  the  Trustees  of  the  PILGRIM  SO 
CIETY,  I  have  the  honor  to  make  the  subjoined  communication. 

"  At  a  meeting  of  the  Trustees  of  the  PILGRIM  SOCIETY,  holden  in 
Plymouth,  Dec.  22,  1824, 

"  Voted,  That  the  thanks  of  the  Society  be  presented  to  Professor  ED 
WARD  EVERETT,  for  his  interesting  and  eloquent  Discourse  delivered  this 
day ;  and  that  a  copy  be  requested  for  publication." 
I  am,  with  due  sentiments  of  respect  and  regard,  sir, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

SAMUEL  DAVIS, 

Corresponding  Secretary. 


A  few  passages  in  the  following  Discourse 
were,  on  account  of  its  length,  omitted  in  the 
delivery. 


THERE  are  occasions  on  which  the  employ 
ment,  best  calculated  to  be  pleasing,  becomes  a 
source  of  anxiety ;  and  the  most  flattering  trust 
grows  into  a  burthen.  Amidst  all  the  proud 
and  grateful  feelings,  which  the  return  of  this 
anniversary  must  inspire,  in  the  bosom  of  every 
child  of  New  England,  a  deep  solicitude  op 
presses  me,  lest  I  should  fail  in  doing  justice  to 
the  men,  to  the  day,  and  to  the  events,  which 
we  are  met  to  commemorate.  In  this  solici 
tude,  no  personal  sentiment  mingles.  I  should 
be  unworthy  to  address  you,  on  this  occasion, 
could  I,  from  the  selfish  desire  of  winning  your 
applause,  devote  one  of  the  moments  of  this 
consecrated  day  to  any  cold  speculations,  how 
ever  ingenious  or  original.  Gladly  would  I  give 
utterance  to  the  most  familiar  commonplaces, 
1 


6 

could  I  be  so  happy  in  doing  it,  as  to  excite  or 
strengthen  the  feelings,  which  belong  to  the 
time  and  the  place.  Gladly  would  I  repeat  to 
you  those  sentiments,  which  a  hundred  times 
have  been  uttered  and  welcomed  on  this  anni 
versary  ;  sentiments,  whose  truth  does  not 
change  in  the  change  of  circumstances,  whose 
power  does  not  wear  out  with  time.  It  is  not 
by  pompous  epithets  or  lively  antithesis,  that  the 
exploits  of  the  pilgrims  are  to  be  set  forth  by 
their  children.  We  can  only  do  this  worthily, 
by  repeating  the  plain  tale  of  their  suffer 
ings,  by  dwelling  on  the  circumstances  under 
which  their  memorable  enterprise  was  execu 
ted,  and  by  cherishing  and  uttering  that  spirit, 
which  led  them  across  the  Ocean,  and  guided 
them  to  the  spot  where  we  stand. — We  need 
no  voice  of  artificial  rhetoric  to  celebrate  their 
names.  The  bleak  and  deathlike  desolation  of 
nature  proclaims,  with  touching  eloquence,  the 
fortitude  and  patience  of  the  meek  adventurers. 
On  the  bare  and  wintry  fields  around  us,  their 
exploits  are  written  in  characters,  which  will 
last,  and  tell  their  tale  to  posterity,  when  brass 
and  marble  have  crumbled  into  dust. 


The  occasion  which  has  called  us  together 
is  certainly  one,  to  which  no  parallel  exists 
in  the  history  of  the  world.  Other  countries, 
and  our  own  also,  have  their  national  festivals. 
They  commemorate  the  birthdays  of  their  illus 
trious  children ;  they  celebrate  the  foundation 
of  important  institutions  :  momentous  events, 
victories,  reformations,  revolutions  awaken,  on 
their  anniversaries,  the  grateful  and  patriotic 
feelings  of  posterity.  But  we  commemorate 
the  birthday  of  all  New  England  ;  the  founda 
tion,  not  of  one  institution,  but  of  all  the  insti 
tutions,  the  settlements,  the  establishments,  the 
communities,  the  societies,  the  improvements, 
comprehended  within  our  broad  and  happy 
borders. 

Were  it  only  as  an  act  of  rare  adventure ; 
were  it  a  trait  in  foreign,  or  ancient  history;  we 
should  fix  upon  the  achievement  of  our  fathers, 
as  one  of  the  noblest  deeds,  in  the  annals  of 
the  world.  Were  we  attracted  to  it,  by  no 
other  principle  than  that  sympathy  we  feel,  in 
all  the  fortunes  of  our  race,  it  could  lose  nothing 
— it  must  gain — in  the  contrast,  with  whatever 
history  or  tradition  has  preserved  to  us  of  the 
wanderings  and  settlements  of  the  tribes  of 


8 

man.  A  continent  for  the  first  time,  effectually 
explored  ;  a  vast  ocean  traversed  by  men,  wo 
men,  and  children,  voluntarily  exiling  them 
selves  from  the  fairest  regions  of  the  old  world ; 
and  a  great  nation  grown  up,  in  the  space  of 
two  centuries,  on  the  foundations  so  perilously 
laid,  by  this  pious  band  : — point  me  to  the  re 
cord,  to  the  tradition,  nay  to  the  fiction  of  any 
thing,  that  can  enter  into  competition  with  it. — 
It  is  the  language  not  of  exaggeration,  but  of 
truth  and  soberness  to  say,  that  there  is  nothing 
in  the  accounts  of  Phenician,  of  Grecian,  or  of 
Roman  Colonization,  that  can  stand  in  the  com 
parison. 

What  new  importance  then  does  not  the 
achievement  acquire  to  our  minds,  when  we 
consider  that  it  was  the  deed  of  our  fathers ; 
that  this  grand  undertaking  was  accomplished 
on  the  spot  where  we  dwell ;  that  the  mighty 
region  they  explored  is  our  native  land ;  that 
the  unrivalled  enterprise  they  displayed,  is  not 
merely  a  fact  proposed  to  our  admiration,  but  is 
the  source  of  our  being  ;  that  their  cruel  hard 
ships  are  the  spring  of  our  prosperity ;  their 
amazing  sufferings  the  seed,  from  which  our 
happiness  has  sprung ;  that  their  weary  banish- 


ment  gave  us  a  home ;  that  to  their  separation 
from  every  thing  which  is  dear  and  pleasant  in 
life,  we  owe  all  the  comforts,  the  blessings,  the 
privileges,  which  make  our  lot  the  envy  of  man 
kind. 

These  are  the  well  known  titles  of  our  ances 
tors  to  our  gratitude  and  veneration. 

But  there  seems  to  me  this  peculiarity  in  the 
nature  of  their  enterprise,  that  its  grand  and 
beneficent  consequences  are,  with  the  lapse  of 
time,  constantly  unfolding  themselves,  in  an  ex 
tent,  and  to  a  magnitude,  which,  till  they  are 
witnessed,  are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  most 
sanguine  promise.  In  the  frail  condition  of 
human  affairs,  we  have  generally  nothing  left 
us  to  commemorate,  but  heroic  acts  of  valor, 
which  have  resulted  in  no  permanent  effect ; 
great  characters,  that  have  struggled  nobly,  but 
in  vain,  against  the  disastrous  combinations  of 
the  age  ;  brilliant  triumphs  of  truth  and  justice, 
rendered  unproductive,  by  the  complication  of 
opposite  events,  and  by  the  stern  resistance  of 
that  system  of  destiny,  of  which  even  the  inde 
pendence  of  our  wills  seems  an  obedient  mem 
ber. — At  best,  it  is  a  great  blessing,  wrhen  we 
can  point  to  some  bright  unclouded  character ; 
or  some  prosperous  and  well  ordered  institu- 


10 

tion  ;  fortunate  in  rise  and  progress ;  grand  and 
glorious  at  maturity ;  majestic,  peaceful,  and 
seasonable  in  decay,  and  piously  lamented  when 
no  more ;  and  it  is  to  the  few  spectacles  of  this 
kind  in  human  history,  that  our  minds  so  con 
stantly  and  fondly  revert  from  the  chequered 
scene  of  intermediate  and  troubled  times  and 
conditions. 

But  it  is  the  peculiar  character  of  the  enter 
prise  of  our  pilgrim  forefathers — successful  in 
deed  in  its  outset — that  it  has  been  more  and 
more  successful,  at  every  subsequent  point  in  the 
line  of  time. — Accomplishing  all  they  projected  ; 
what  they  projected  was  the  least  part  of  what 
has  been  accomplished.  Forming  a  design,  in 
itself  grand,  bold,  and  even  appalling,  for  the 
sacrifices  it  required,  and  the  risks  it  involved ; 
the  fulfilment  of  that  design  is  the  least  thing, 
which,  in  the  steady  progress  of  events,  has 
flowed  from  their  counsels  and  their  efforts. — 
Did  they  propose  to  themselves  a  refuge  beyond 
the  sea,  from  the  religious  and  political  tyranny 
of  Europe  ?  They  achieved  not  that  alone,  but 
they  have  opened  a  wide  asylum  to  all  the  vic 
tims  of  tyranny  throughout  the  world.  We 
ourselves  have  seen  the  statesmen,  the  generals. 


11 

the  kings  of  the  elder  world,  flying  for  protec 
tion  to  the  shadow  of  our  institutions.      Did 
they  wish  only  to  escape  to  a  remote  corner, 
where  the  arm  of  oppression  could  not  reach 
them  ?  They  founded  a  great  realm,  an  imperial 
patrimony  of  liberty,  the  first  effectual  counter 
poise  in  the  scale  of    human  right.      Did  they 
look  for  a  retired  spot,  inoffensive  for  its  obscu 
rity  and  safe  in  its  remoteness,  where  the  little 
church  of  Leyden  might  enjoy  the  freedom  of 
conscience  ?    Behold  the  mighty  regions  over 
which  in  peaceful  conquest — victoria  sine  clade 
— they  have  borne  the  banners  of  the  cross. — 
Did  they  seek,  beneath  the  protection  of  trading 
charters,  to   prosecute   a   frugal   commerce   in 
reimbursement  of  the  expenses  of  their  humble 
establishment  ?   The  fleets  and  navies  of  their 
descendants  are  on  the  farthest  ocean ;  and  the 
wealth  of  the  Indies  is  now  wafted  with  every 
tide  to  the  coasts,  where  with  hook  and  line 
they  painfully  gathered  up  their  little  adven 
tures. — In  short,  did  they,  in  their  brightest  and 
most  sanguine  moments,  contemplate  a  thrifty, 
loyal,    and   prosperous    colony — portioned   off, 
like  a  younger  son  of  the  imperial  household, 
to  an  humble,  a  dutiful  distance  ?    Behold  the 


12 

spectacle  of  an  independent  and  powerful  Re 
public,  founded  on  the  shores  where  some  of 
those  are  but  lately  deceased,  who  saw  the  first 
born  of  the  pilgrims. 

And  shall  we  stop  here  ?  Is  the  tale  now 
told  ;  is  the  contrast  now  complete ;  are  our 
destinies  all  fulfilled ;  have  we  reached  the  me 
ridian  ;  are  we  declining ;  are  we  stationary  ? 
My  friends,  I  tell  you,  we  have  but  begun  ;  we 
are  in  the  very  morning  of  our  days ;  our  num 
bers  are  but  an  unit ;  our  national  resources 
but  a  pittance  ;  our  hopeful  achievements  in  the 
political,  the  social,  and  the  intellectual  nature, 
are  but  the  rudiments  of  what  the  children  of 
the  Pilgrims  must  yet  attain.  If  there  is  any 
thing  certain  in  the  principles  of  human  and 
social  progress ;  if  there  is  any  thing  clear  in 
the  deductions  from  past  history ;  if  there  is 
any,  the  least,  reliance  to  be  placed  on  the  con 
clusions  of  reason,  in  regard  to  the  nature  of 
man,  the  existing  spectacle  of  our  country's 
growth,  magnificent  as  it  is,  does  not  suggest 
even  an  idea  of  what  it  must  be.  I  dare  adven 
ture  the  prediction,  that  he  who  shall  stand 
where  I  stand,  two  centuries  hence,  and  look 
back  on  our  present  condition  from  a  distance, 


13 

equal  to  that  from  which  we  contemplate  the 
first  settlement  of  the  Pilgrims,  will  sketch  a 
contrast  far  more  astonishing ;  and  will  speak 
of  our  times  as  the  day  of  small  things,  in 
stronger  and  juster  language,  than  any'in  which 
we  can  depict  the  poverty  and  wants  of  our 
fathers. 

But  we  ought  to  consecrate  this  day,  not  to 
the  promise,  nor  even  the  present  blessings  of 
our  condition,  except  so  far  as  these  are  con 
nected  with  the  memory  of  the  Pilgrims.  The 
twenty  second  of  December  belongs  to  them  ; 
and  we  ought,  in  consistency,  to  direct  our 
thoughts  to  the  circumstances,  under  which 
their  most  astonishing  enterprise  was  achieved. 
I  shall  hope  to  have  contributed  my  mite  to 
wards  our  happy  celebration,  if  I  can  succeed 
in  pointing  out  a  few  of  those  circumstances  of 
the  first  emigration  to  our  country,  and  particu 
larly  of  the  first  emigration  to  New  England,* 
from  which,  under  a  kind  Providence,  has  flow 
ed  not  only  the  immediate  success  of  the  under 
taking,  but  the  astonishing  train  of  consequences 
auspicious  to  the  cause  of  liberty,  humanity,  and 
truth. 

*  See  Note  A. 


14 

I.  Our  forefathers  regarded,  with  natural  ter 
ror,  the  passage  of  the  mighty  deep.  Navigation, 
notwithstanding  the  great  advances  which  it  had 
made  in  the  sixteenth  century,  was  yet,  com 
paratively  speaking,  in  its  infancy.  The  very 
fact,  that  voyages  of  great  length  and  hazard 
were  successfully  attempted  in  small  vessels,  a 
fact  which,  on  first  view,  might  seem  to  show  a 
high  degree  of  perfection  in  the  art,  in  reality 
proves  that  it  was  as  yet  but  imperfectly  under 
stood.  That  the  great  Columbus  should  put  to 
sea,  for  the  discovery  of  a  new  passage  across 
the  Western  Ocean  to  India,  with  two  out  of 
three  vessels  unprovided  with  decks,  may  indeed 
be  considered  the  effect,  not  of  ignorance  of 
the  art  of  navigation,  but  of  bitter  necessity.* 
But  that  Sir  Francis  Drake,  near  a  hundred 
years  afterwards,  the  first  naval  commander  who 
ever  sailed  round  the  earth,  enjoying  the  advan 
tage  of  the  royal  patronage,  and  aided  by  the 
fruits  of  no  little  personal  experience,  should 
have  embarked  on  his  voyage  of  circumnaviga 
tion,  with  five  vessels,  of  which  the  largest  was  of 
one  hundred,  and  the  smallest  of  fifteen  tons,t 

*  See  Note  B. 

t  Biographia  Brittanica,  HI.  1732. 


15 

must  needs  be  regarded  as  proof,  that  the  art  of 
navigation,  in  the  generation  preceding  our  an 
cestors,  had  not  reached  that  point,  where  the 
skilful  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  supersedes 
the  necessity  of  extraordinary  intrepidity,  aided 
by  not  less  extraordinary  good  fortune.  It  was 
therefore  the  first  obstacle,  which  presented 
itself  to  the  project  of  the  pilgrims,  that  it  was 
to  be  carried  into  execution,  across  the  ocean, 
which  separates  our  continent  from  the  rest  of 
the  world.*  Notwithstanding,  however,  this  cir 
cumstance,  and  the  natural  effect  it  must  have 
had  on  their  minds,  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  is 
one  of  those  features  in  our  natural  situation,  to 
which  America  is  indebted,  not  merely  for  the 
immediate  success  of  the  enterprise  of  settle 
ment,  but  for  much  of  its  subsequent  growth 
and  prosperity. 

I  do  not  now  allude  to  the  obvious  considera 
tion,  that  the  remoteness  of  the  country,  to  be 
settled,  led  to  a  more  thorough  preparation  for 
the  enterprise,  both  as  respects  the  tempers  of 
those  who  embarked  in  it,  and  the  provisions 
made  for  carrying  it  on  ;  though  this  view  will 
not  be  lost  on  those,  who  reflect  on  the  nature 

*  See  Note  C. 


16 

of  man,  by  which  difficult  enterprises  (so  they 
be  not  desperate)  are  more  likely  to  succeed, 
than  those  which  seem  much  easier.  Nor  do 
I  allude  to  the  effect  of  our  distance  from 
Europe,  in  preventing  the  hasty  abandonment 
of  the  colony,  under  the  pressure  of  the  first 
difficulties ;  although  the  want  of  frequent  and 
convenient  reconveyance  was  doubtless  a  con 
siderable  security  to  the  early  settlements,  and 
placed  our  fathers,  in  some  degree,  in  the  situa 
tion  of  the  followers  of  Cortez,  after  he  had 
intrepidly  burned  the  vessels,  which  conveyed 
them  to  the  Mexican  coasts. 

The  view,  which  I  would  now  take  of  the  re 
moteness  of  America  from  Europe,  is  connected 
with  the  higher  principles  of  national  fortune 
and  progress. 

The  rest  of  the  world,  though  nominally  di 
vided  into  three  continents,  in  reality  consists  of 
but  one.  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa  are  separated 
by  no  natural  barriers,  which  it  has  not  been  easy 
in  every  age  for  an  ambitious  invader  to  pass  ; 
and  apart  from  this  first  consequence  of  the  juxta 
position  of  their  various  regions,  a  communica 
tion  of  principle  and  feeling,  of  policy  and  pas 
sion,  may  be  propagated,  at  all  times,  even  to 


17 

their  remote  and  seemingly  inaccessible  commu 
nities.  The  consequence  has  been,  on  the  whole, 
highly  unfavorable  to  social  progress.  The  ex 
tent  of  country  inhabited  or  rather  infested  by 
barbarous  tribes,  has  generally  far  outweighed 
the  civilized  portions;  and  more  than  once,  in  the 
history  of  the  world,  refinement,  learning,  arts, 
laws,  and  religion,  with  the  wealth  and  pros 
perity  they  have  created,  have  been  utterly  swept 
away,  and  the  hands,  as  it  were,  moved  back, 
on  the  dial  plate  of  time,  in  consequence  of  the 
irruption  of  savage  hordes  into  civilized  regions. 
Were  the  early  annals  of  the  East  as  amply 
preserved  as  those  of  the  Roman  empire,  they 
would  probably  present  us  with  accounts  of 
revolutions,  on  the  Nile  and  the  Euphrates, 
as  disastrous  as  those,  by  which  the  civilized 
world  was  shaken,  in  the  first  centuries  of  the 
Christian  era. — Till  an  ocean  interposes  its 
mighty  barrier,  no  citadel  of  freedom  or  truth 
has  been  long  maintained.  The  magnificent 
temples  of  Egypt  were  demolished  in  the  sixth 
century  before  our  Saviour,  by  the  hordes,  which 
Cambyses  had  collected  from  the  steppes  of 
Central  Asia.  The  vineyards  of  Burgundy- 
were  wasted  in  the  third  century  of  our  era,  by 


18 

roving  savages  from  beyond  the  Caucasus.  In 
the  eleventh  century,  Gengis  Khan  and  his 
Tartars  swept  Europe  and  Asia  from  the  Baltic 
to  the  China  Sea.  And  Ionia  and  Attica,  the 
gardens  of  Greece,  are  still,  under  the  eyes  of  the 
leading  Christian  powers  of  Europe,  beset  by  re 
morseless  barbarians  from  the  Altai  Mountains. 

Nor  is  it  the  barbarians  alone,  who  have  been 
tempted  by  this  facility  of  communication,  to 
a  career  of  boundless  plunder.  The  Alexan 
ders  and  the  Caesars,  the  Charlemagnes  and 
the  Napoleons,  the  founders  of  great  empires 
and  authors  of  schemes  of  universal  monarchy, 
have  been  enabled,  by  the  same  circumstance, 
to  turn  the  annals  of  mankind  into  a  tale  of 
war  and  misery.  When  we  descend  to  the 
scrutiny  of  single  events,  we  find  that  the  na 
tions,  who  have  most  frequently  and  most  im 
mediately  suffered,  have  been  those  most  easily 
approached  and  overrun ; — and  that  those  who 
have  longest  or  most  uniformly  maintained  their 
independence,  have  done  it  by  virtue  of  lofty 
mountains,  wide  rivers,  or  the  surrounding  sea. 

In  this  state  of  things,  the  three  united  conti 
nents  of  the  old  world  do  not  contain  a  single 
spot,  where  any  grand  scheme  of  human  im- 


19 

provement  could  be  attempted,  with  a  prospect 
of  fair  experiment  and  full  success,  because 
there  is  no  spot  safe  from  foreign  interference ; 
and  no  member  of  the  general  system  so  insig 
nificant,  that  his  motions  are  not  watched  with 
jealousy  by  all  the  rest.  The  welfare  and  pro 
gress  of  man  in  the  most  favored  region,  in 
stead  of  proceeding  in  a  free  and  natural  course, 
dependent  on  the  organization  and  condition 
of  that  region  alone,  can  only  reach  the  point, 
which  may  be  practicable  in  the  general  result 
of  an  immensely  complicated  system,  made  up 
of  a  thousand  jarring  members. 

Our  country  accordingly  opened,  at  the  time 
of  its  settlement,  and  still  opens,  a  new  the 
atre  of  human  development. — Notwithstand 
ing  the  prodigious  extent  of  commercial  inter 
course,  and  the  wide  grasp  of  naval  power 
among  modern  states,  and  their  partial  effect 
in  bringing  us  into  the  political  system  of  Eu 
rope,  it  need  not  be  urged,  that  we  are  essen 
tially  strangers  to  it  ; — placed  at  a  distance, 
which  retards,  and  for  every  injurious  purpose, 
neutralizes  all  peaceful  communication,  and  de 
fies  all  hostile  approach.  To  this  it  was  owing 
that  so  little  was  here  felt  of  the  convulsions  of 


20 

the  civil  wars,  which  followed  in  England  so 
soon  after  the  expulsion  of  our  fathers.  To  this, 
in  a  more  general  view,  we  are  indebted  for  many 
of  our  peculiarities  as  a  nation,  for  our  steady 
colonial  growth,  our  establishment  of  indepen 
dence,  our  escape  amidst  the  political  storms 
which,  during  the  last  thirty  years,  have  shaken 
the  empires  of  the  earth. — To  this  we  shall  still 
be  indebted,  and  more  and  more  indebted,  with 
the  progress  of  our  country,  for  the  originality 
and  stability  of  our  national  character.  Hither 
to  the  political  effects  of  our  seclusion,  behind 
the  mighty  veil  of  waters,  have  been  the  most 
important.  Now,  that  our  political  foundations 
are  firmly  laid ;  that  the  work  of  settlement,  of 
colonization,  of  independence,  and  of  union  is 
all  done,  and  happily  done,  we  shall  reap,  in 
other  forms,  the  salutary  fruits  of  our  remote 
ness  from  the  centres  of  foreign  opinion  and 
feeling. 

I  say  not  this  in  direct  disparagement  of 
foreign  states  ;  their  institutions  are  doubtless  as 
good,  in  many  cases,  as  the  condition  of  things 
now  admits ;  or  when  at  the  worst,  could  not 
be  remedied  by  any  one  body,  nor  by  any  one 
generation  of  men ;  and  the  evil  which  requires 


21 

for  its  remedy  the  accord  of  successive  genera 
tions,  at  the  same  time  that  it  may  generally  be 
called  desperate,  ought  to  bring  no  direct  re 
proach  upon  the  men  of  any  one  period. 

But  without  disparaging  foreign  institutions, 
we  may  be  allowed  to  prefer  our  own  ;  to  assert 
their  excellence,  to  seek  to  build  them  up  on 
their  original  foundations,  on  their  true  princi 
ples,  and  in  their  unmingled  purity.  That  great 
word  of  Independence,  which,  if  first  uttered  in 
1776,  was  most  auspiciously  anticipated  in  1620, 
comprehends  much  more  than  a  mere  absence 
of  foreign  jurisdiction.  I  could  almost  say,  that 
if  it  rested  there,  it  would  scarcely  be  worth  as 
serting.  In  every  noble,  in  every  true  accepta 
tion,  it  implies  not  merely  an  American  govern 
ment,  but  an  American  character,  an  American 
pride.  To  the  formation  of  these,  nothing  will 
more  powerfully  contribute  than  our  geographi 
cal  distance  from  other  parts  of  the  world.  The 
unhealthy  air  of  Europe  is  purified  in  crossing 
the  waves  of  the  Atlantic.  The  roaring  of  its 
mighty  billows  is  not  terrible, — it  does  but  echo 
the  voices  of  our  national  feeling  and  power. 

In  these  views  there  is  nothing  unsocial  ; 
nothing  hostile  to  a  friendly  and  improving  con- 


22 

nexion  of  distant  regions  with  each  other,  or 
to  the  profitable  interchange  of  the  commodities, 
which  a  bountiful  Providence  has  variously  scat 
tered  over  the  earth.  For  these  and  all  other 
desirable  ends,  the  perfection,  to  which  the 
art  of  navigation  is  brought,  affords  abundant 
means  of  conquering  the  obstacles  of  distance. 
It  is  idle,  in  reference  to  these  ends,  to  speak 
of  our  remoteness  from  the  rest  of  the  world, 
while  our  commerce  is  exploring  the  farthest 
regions  of  the  earth  ;  while,  in  exchange  for 
the  products  or  efforts  of  our  industry,  the 
flocks  on  the  western  declivity  of  the  Peruvian 
Andes  are  supplying  us  with  wool ;  the  north 
eastern  coasts  of  Japan  furnishing  us  with  oil ; 
and  the  central  provinces  of  China,  with  tea. 
At  this  moment,  the  reward  of  American  skill 
is  paid  by  the  Chieftains  of  inner  Tartary, 
wrapped  up  in  the  furs,  which,  in  our  voyages 
of  circumnavigation,  we  have  collected  on  the 
North  Western  Coast  of  our  Continent.  The 
interest  on  American  capital  is  paid  by  the 
haughty  viziers  of  Anatolia,  whose  opium  is  cul 
tivated  and  gathered  for  our  merchants.  The 
wages  of  American  labor  are  paid  by  the 
princes  of  Hindostan,  whose  plantations  of  in- 


digo  depend  on  us  for  a  portion  of  their  market. 
While  kings  and  ministers,  by  intrigue  and 
bloodshed,  are  contesting  the  possession  of  a 
few  square  miles  of  territory,  our  commerce  has 
silently  extended  its  jurisdiction  from  island  to 
island,  from  sea  to  sea,  from  continent  to  con 
tinent,  till  it  holds  the  globe  in  its  grasp. 

But  while  no  one  can  doubt  the  mutual  ad 
vantages  of  a  judiciously  conducted  commerce, 
or  be  insensible  of  the  good,  which  has  re 
sulted  to  the  cause  of  humanity,  from  the  cul 
tivation  of  a  peaceful  and  friendly  intercourse 
with  other  climes,  it  is  yet  beyond  question, 
that  the  true  principle  of  American  policy,  to 
which  the  whole  spirit  of  our  institutions,  not 
less  than  the  geographical  features  of  the  coun 
try,  invites  us,  is  separation  from  Europe. 
Next  to  union  at  home,  which  ought  to  be 
called  not  so  much  the  essential  condition  of 
our  national  existence,  as  our  existence  itself, 
separation  from  all  other  countries,  in  policy, 
spirit,  and  character,  is  the  great  principle,  by 
which  we  are  to  prosper.  It  is  toward  this 
that  our  efforts,  public  and  private,  ought  to 
strain  ;  and  we  shall  rise  or  decline  in  strength, 
improvement,  and  worth,  as  we  observe  or  de- 


24 

sert  this  principle.  This  is  the  voice  of  nature, 
which  did  not  in  vain  disjoin  our  continent 
from  the  old  world  ;  nor  reserve  it  beyond  the 
ocean  for  fifty  centuries,  only  that  it  might 
become  a  common  receptacle  for  the  exploded 
principles,  the  degenerate  examples,  and  the 
remediless  corruptions  of  other  states.  This 
is  the  voice  of  our  history,  which  traces  every 
thing  excellent  in  our  character  and  prosper 
ous  in  our  fortunes,  to  dissent,  nonconformity, 
departure,  resistance,  and  revolution.  This 
is  taught  us  by  the  marked  peculiarity,  the 
wonderful  novelty  which,  whether  we  will  it 
or  not,  displays  itself  in  our  whole  physical, 
political,  and  social  existence. 

And  it  is  a  matter  of  sincere  congratulation, 
that,  under  the  healthy  operation  of  natural 
causes,  very  partially  accelerated  by  legislation, 
the  current  of  our  pursuits  and  industry,  with 
out  deserting  its  former  channels,  is  throwing 
a  broad  and  swelling  branch  into  the  interior. 
Foreign  commerce,  the  natural  employment  of 
an  enterprising  people,  whose  population  is 
accumulated  on  the  seacoast,  and  whose  neu 
tral  services  are  called  for  by  a  world  in 
arms,  is  daily  reverting  to  a  condition  of  more 


25 

equal  participation  among  the  various  maritime 
states,  and  is  in  consequence  becoming  less 
productive  to  any  one.  While  America  re 
mains,  and  will  always  remain,  among  the 
foremost  commercial  and  naval  states,  an  am 
ple  portion  of  our  resources  has  already  taken 
a  new  direction.  We  profited  of  the  dissen 
sions  of  Europe,  which  threw  her  trade  into 
our  hands  ;  and  we  amassed  a  capital,  as  her 
carriers,  before  we  could  otherwise  have  one 
of  our  own.  We  are  now  profiting  of  the 
pacification  of  Europe,  in  the  application  to 
our  own  soil,  our  own  mineral  and  vegetable 
products,  our  water  course  and  water  falls, 
and  our  general  internal  resources,  of  a  part 
of  the  capital  thus  accumulated. 

This  circumstance  is,  in  a  general  view,  most 
gratifying ;  inasmuch  as  it  creates  a  new  bond 
of  mutual  dependence,  in  the  variety  of  our 
natural  gifts,  and  in  the  mutual  benefits  ren 
dered  each  other  by  the  several  sectional  in 
terests  of  the  country.  The  progress  is  likely 
to  be  permanent  and  sure,  because  it  has  been 
mainly  brought  about  in  the  natural  order  of 
things,  and  with  little  legislative  interference. 
Within  a  few  years  what  a  happy  change  has 


26 

taken  place  !  The  substantial  clothing  of  our 
industrious  classes  is  now  the  growth  of  the 
American  soil,  and  the  texture  of  the  American 
loom  ;  the  music  of  the  water  wheel  is  heard  on 
the  banks  of  our  thousand  rural  streams ;  and 
enterprise  and  skill,  with  wealth,  refinement, 
and  prosperity  in  their  train,  having  studded 
the  seashore  with  populous  cities,  are  making 
their  great  "progress"  of  improvement  through 
the  interior,  and  sowing  towns  and  villages,  as 
it  were  broadcast,  through  the  country. 

II.  If  our  remote  position  be  so  important 
among  the  circumstances,  which  favored  the 
enterprise  of  our  fathers,  and  have  favored 
the  growth  of  their  settlements,  scarcely  less 
so  was  the  point  of  time  at  which  those  set 
tlements  were  commenced. 

When  we  cast  our  eyes  over  the  annals 
of  our  race,  we  find  them  to  be  filled  with 
a  tale  of  various  fortunes ;  the  rise  and  fall 
of  nations  ; — periods  of  light  and  darkness  ; — 
of  great  illumination,  and  of  utter  obscurity  ; — 
and  of  all  intermediate  degrees  of  intelligence, 
cultivation,  and  liberty.  But  in  the  seeming 
confusion  of  the  narrative,  our  attention  is 


27 

arrested    by  three   more   conspicuous   eras    at 
unequal  distances  in   the   lapse  of  ages. 

In  Egypt  we  still  behold,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Nile,  the  monuments  of  a  polished  age ; 
— a  period,  no  doubt,  of  high  cultivation,  and 
of  great  promise.  Beneath  the  influence  of 
causes,  which  are  lost  in  the  depth  of  an 
tiquity,  but  which  are  doubtless  connected 
with  the  debasing  superstitions  and  despotism 
of  the  age,  this  period  passed  away,  and  left 
scarce  a  trace  of  its  existence,  beyond  the  stu 
pendous  and  mysterious  structures, — the  tem 
ples,  the  obelisks,  and  the  pyramids, — which 
yet  bear  witness  to  an  age  of  great  power 
and  cultivated  art,  and  mock  the  curiosity  of 
mankind  by  the  records  inscrutably  carved  on 
their  surfaces. 

Passing  over  an  interval  of  one  thousand 
years,  we  reach  the  second  epoch  of  light 
and  promise.  With  the  progress  of  freedom 
in  Greece,  the  progress  of  the  mind  kept  pace ; 
and  an  age  both  of  achievement  and  of  hope 
succeeded,  of  which  the  indirect  influence  is 
still  felt  in  the  world.  But  the  greater  part 
of  mankind  were  too  barbarous  to  improve 
by  the  example  of  this  favored  corner ;  and 


28 

though  the  influence  of  its  arts,  letters,  and 
civilization  was  wonderfully  extensive  and  du 
rable, — though  it  seemed  to  revive  at  the  court 
of  the  Roman  Ca3sars,  and  still  later,  at  that 
of  the  Arabian  Caliphs,  yet  not  resting  on 
those  popular  institutions  and  popular  princi 
ples,  which  can  alone  be  permanent  because 
alone  natural,  it  slowly  died  away,  and  Eu 
rope  and  the  world  relapsed  into  barbarity. 

The  third  great  era  of  our  race  is  the  close 
of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  use  of  the  mari 
ner's  compass  and  the  invention  of  the  art 
of  printing,  had  furnished  the  modern  world, 
with  two  engines  of  improvement  and  civiliza 
tion,  either  of  which  was  far  more  efficacious 
than  all  united,  known  to  antiquity.  The  re 
formation  also,  about  this  time,  disengaged 
Christianity,  itself  one  of  the  most  powerful 
instruments  of  civilization,  from  those  abuses, 
which  had  hitherto  nearly  destroyed  its  bene 
ficent  influence  on  temporal  affairs  ;  and  at 
this  most  chosen  moment  in  the  annals  of 
the  world,  America  was  discovered. 

It  would  not  be  difficult,  by  pursuing  this 
analysis,  to  show  that  the  very  period,  when  the 
settlement  of  our  coasts  began,  was  peculiarly 


29 

auspicious  to  the  foundation  of  a  new  and  hope 
ful  system. 

Religious  reformation  was  the  original  prin 
ciple,  which  enkindled  the  zeal  of  our  pilgrim 
fathers  ;  as  it  has  been  so  often  acknow 
ledged  to  be  the  master  principle  of  the  great 
est  movements  in  the  modern  world.*  The 
religions  of  Greece  and  Rome  were  portions 
of  the  political  systems  of  these  countries. 
The  Scipios,  the  Crassuses,  and  Julius  Caesar 
himself,  were  high  priests.  It  was,  doubt 
less,  owing  in  part  to  this  example,  that  at 
an  early  period  after  the  first  introduction  of 
Christianity,  the  heads  of  the  church  so  en 
tirely  mistook  the  spirit  of  this  religion,  that, 
in  imitation  of  the  splendid  idolatry,  which 
was  passing  away,  they  aimed  at  a  new 
combination  of  church  and  state,  which  re 
ceived  but  too  much  countenance  from  the 
policy  of  Constantine.f  This  abuse,  with 
ever  multiplying  and  aggravated  calamitous 
consequences,  endured,  without  any  effectual 
check,  till  the  first  blow  was  aimed  at  the 
supremacy  of  the  papal  power,  by  Philip  the 
Fair  of  France,  in  the  fourteenth  century, 

*  See  Note  D.  t  See  Note  E. 

4 


30 

who  laid  the  foundation  of  the  liberties  of  the 
Gallican  church,  of  which  the  Constitution 
may  be  called  the  Catholic  Reformation.* 

After  an  interval  of  two  hundred  years,  this 
example  was  followed  and  improved  upon  by 
the  Princes  in  Germany,  that  espoused  the 
protestant  reformation  of  Luther,  and  in  a 
still  more  decisive  manner  by  Henry  the  Eighth 
in  England  ;  at  which  period  we  may  accord 
ingly  date  the  second  great  step  in  the  march 
of  religious  liberty.f 

Much  more,  however,  was  yet  to  be  effected 
toward  the  dissolution  of  the  unnatural  bond 
between  Church  and  State.  Hitherto  a  domes 
tic  was  substituted  for  a  foreign  yoke,  and 
the  rights  of  private  conscience  had,  perhaps, 
gained  but  little  in  the  exchange.  In  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  among 
the  exiles,  whom  the  frantic  tyranny  of  Queen 
Mary  had  driven  to  the  free  cities  on  the 
Rhine,  the  ever  memorable  communion  of  Pu 
ritans  arose.  On  their  return  to  England,  in 
/the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  they  strenuously 
opposed  themselves  to  the  erection  and  pecu 
liarities  of  the  English  national  church. 

*  See  Note  F.  t  See  Note  G. 


31 

Nearly  as  we  have  now  reached,  both  in 
simplicity  of  principle  and  point  of  time,  to 
our  pilgrim  forefathers,  there  is  one  more  puri 
fying  process  to  go  through,  one  more  gene 
ration  to  pass  away.  The  major  part  of  the 
Puritans  themselves,  while  they  rejected  some 
of  the  forms,  arid  disliked  the  organization  of 
the  English  church,  adhered  in  substance  to 
the  Constitution  of  the  Genevan  church,  and 
their  descendants  were  willing,  a  century  later,  to 
accept  of  an  establishment  by  law  in  Scotland. 

It  remained,  therefore,  to  shake  off  the  last 
badge  of  subjection,  and  in  the  person  of  Ro 
bert  Brown,  an  individual  himself  of  no  very 
commendable  qualities,  the  last  step  was  taken 
in  the  progress  of  reform,  by  asserting  the 
independence  of  each  single  church.  The 
personal  character  of  Brown  was  such  as  to 
throw  no  little  discouragement  on  the  cause  ; 
nor  did  it  acquire  firmness  till  espoused  by 
Robinson,  who  may  be  called  the  father  of 
the  Independent  churches.  His  own  at  Ley- 
den  was  the  chief  of  these,  and  fidelity  to  their 
principles  was  the  motive  of  their  departure 
from  Holland,  and  the  occasion  of  their  set 
tlement  at  Plymouth.* 

*  See  Note  H. 


32 

But  all  may  not  be  disposed  to  join  us,  in 
so  exact  a  specification  of  the  beginning  of 
the  seventeenth  century,  as  the  period,  when 
religious  reform  had  reached  its  last  perfection, 
and  consequently,  as  the  era  most  favorable 
to  the  establishment  of  a  new  and  free  state. 
None,  however,  on  a  larger  view  of  the  sub 
ject,  will  be  unwilling  to  allow  that  this  was 
the  great  age  of  general  improvement.  It  was 
the  age,  when  the  discoveries  of  the  Spanish, 
Portuguese,  and  English  navigators  had  begun 
to  exert  a  stimulating  influence  on  the  world 
at  large,  and  the  old  continent  and  the  new, 
like  the  magnetic  poles,  commenced  those 
momentous  processes  of  attraction  and  repul 
sion,  from  which  so  much  of  the  activity  of 
both  has  since  proceeded.  It  was  the  period 
when  the  circulation  of  knowledge  had  be 
come  general ;  and  books  in  all  languages  were 
in  the  hands  of  a  very  large  class  in  every 
country.  The  history  of  Europe,  in  all  its 
states,  shows  the  extent  and  vehemence  of 
the  consequent  fermentation.  With  their  new 
engines  of  improvement  and  new  principles  of 
right,  the  communities  of  men  rushed  forward 
in  the  course  of  reform  ;  some  with  firmness 


33 

and  vigor,  proportioned  to  the  greatness  of 
the  object  in  view,  most  with  tumult  and  des 
peration,  proportioned  to  the  duration  and  mag 
nitude  of  their  injuries,  and  none  with  entire 
success.  The  most  that  was  effected,  in  the 
most  fortunate  states,  was  a  compromise  be 
tween  the  new  claims  and  the  old  abuses. 
Absolute  kings  stipulated  to  be  no  longer 
absolute  ;  and  free  men  preferred  what  they 
called  petitions  of  right.  In  this  way,  and 
after  infinite  struggles,  a  tolerable  foundation 
for  considerable  practical  liberty  was  laid  on 
two  principles,  in  the  abstract  entirely  false  ; 
that  of  acquiescence  on  the  part  of  the  sove 
reign,  and  prescription  in  favor  of  the  people. 
So  firmly  established  are  these  principles,  by 
consent  of  the  statesmen  of  the  freest  country 
in  Europe,  as  the  best  and  only  foundation  of 
civil  rights,  that  so  late  as  the  last  years  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  a  work  of  ingenuity 
seldom,  of  eloquence  never,  surpassed,  was 
written  by  Mr  Burke,  to  prove,  that  the  peo 
ple  of  England  have  not  a  right  to  appoint 
and  to  remove  their  rulers ;  and  that  if  they 
ever  had  the  right,  they  deliberately  renounced 
it  at  what  is  called  the  glorious  revolution 


34 

of  1688,   for   themselves    and    their   posterity 
forever.* 

It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that  the  meliora 
tions,  which  have  taken  place  in  Europe  within 
the  last  two  centuries,  rest  on  no  sound  prin 
ciple,  and  are  but  the  effect  of  alteratives 
on  the  fatal  malady  of  age,  with  which  her 
states  are  sick  at  heart.  It  is  true  that  the 
popular  element,  such  is  its  sovereign  healing 
power,  which,  even  on  the  poor  footing  of  a 
compromise,  has  been  introduced  into  a  portion 
of  their  political  constitutions,  has  operated 
some  of  the  beneficent  effects  of  the  fabled 
transfusion  of  youthful  blood  into  aged  veins. 
But  the  principles  of  prescription  and  acqui 
escence  unfortunately  run  as  much  in  favor 
of  abuses  and  corruptions  as  of  privileges.  On 
the  received  footing,  the  acknowledged  vices 
and  evils  of  their  institutions  are  as  sacred 
as  the  best  rights,  and  the  door  to  any  con 
sistent  and  rational  improvement  is  effectually 
closed  ;  because  the  more  degenerate,  the  more 
antiquated,  the  more  hostile  to  the  spirit  and 
character  of  the  age,  the  institution  that  needs 
reform  may  be,  the  more  ancient  it  will  also 

*  See  Note  I. 


35 

commonly  be  found,  and   in   consequence,  the 
more   strongly  fortified  by  prescription. 

While,  therefore,  the  work  of  social  renova 
tion  is  entirely  hopeless  in  Europe,  we  cannot 
but  regard  it  as  the  plain  interposition  of  Provi 
dence,  that,  at  the  critical  point  of  time,  when 
the  most  powerful  springs  of  improvement  were 
in  operation,  a  chosen  company  of  pilgrims,  who 
were  actuated  by  these  springs  of  improvement, 
in  all  their  strength,  who  had  purchased  the 
privilege  of  dissent  at  the  high  price  of  banish 
ment  from  the  civilized  world,  and  who,  with  the 
dust  of  their  feet,  had  shaken  off  the  antiquated 
abuses  and  false  principles,  which  had  been  ac 
cumulating  for  thousands  of  years,  came  over  to 
these  distant,  unoccupied  shores.  I  know  not 
that  the  work  of  thorough  reform  could  be  safely 
trusted  to  any  other  hands.  I  can  credit  their 
disinterestedness,  when  they  maintain  the  equal 
ity  of  ranks  ;  for  no  rich  forfeitures  of  attainted 
lords  await  them  in  the  wilderness.  I  need  not 
question  the  sincerity  with  which  they  assert  the 
rights  of  conscience  ;  for  the  plundered  treasures 
of  an  ancient  hierarchy  are  not  to  seal  their  doc 
trine.  They  rested  the  edifice  of  their  civil  and 
religious  liberties  on  a  foundation  as  pure  and 


36 

innocent  as  the  snows  around  them.  Blessed 
be  the  spot,  the  only  one  earth,  where  such  a 
foundation  was  ever  laid.  Blessed  be  the  spot, 
the  only  one  on  earth,  where  man  has  attempted 
to  establish  the  good,  without  beginning  with 
the  sad,  the  odious,  the  too  suspicious  task  of 
pulling  down  the  bad. 

III.  Under  these  favorable  auspices,  the  Pil 
grims  landed  on  the  coast  of  New  England. 
They  found  it  a  region  of  moderate  fertility, 
offering  an  unsubdued  wilderness  to  the  hand 
of  labor,  with  a  climate  temperate  indeed,  but 
compared  with  that  which  they  had  left,  verging 
somewhat  near  to  either  extreme ;  and  a  soil 
which  promised  neither  gold  nor  diamonds,  nor 
any  thing  but  what  should  be  gained  from  it  by 
patient  industry.  This  was  but  a  poor  reality 
for  that  dream  of  oriental  luxury,  with  which 
America  had  filled  the  imaginations  of  men. 
The  visions  of  Indian  wealth,  of  mines  of  silver 
and  gold,  and  fisheries  of  pearl,  with  which  the 
Spanish  adventurers  in  Mexico  and  Peru  had 
astonished  the  ears  of  Europe,  were  but  poorly 
fulfilled  on  the  bleak,  rocky,  and  sterile  plains 
of  New  England.  No  doubt,  in  the  beginning 


37 

of  the  settlement,  these  circumstances  operated 
unfavorably  on  the  growth  of  the  colony.  In 
the  nature  of  things,  it  is  mostly  adventurers, 
who  incline  to  leave  their  homes  and  native 
land,  and  risk  the  uncertainty  of  another  hemi 
sphere  ;  and  a  climate  and  soil  like  ours  furnish 
ed  but  little  attraction  to  the  adventuring  class. 
Captain  Smith,  in  his  zeal  to  promote  the 
growth  of  New  England,  is  at  no  little  pains  to 
show  that  the  want  of  mineral  treasures  was 
amply  compensated  by  the  abundant  fishery  of 
the  coast ;  and  having  sketched  in  strong  colors 
the  prosperity  and  wealth  of  the  states  of  Hol 
land,  he  adds,  "  Divers,  I  know,  may  allege 
many  other  assistances,  but  this  is  the  chiefest 
mine,  and  the  sea  the  source  of  those  silver 
streams  of  their  virtue,  which  hath  made  them 
now  the  very  miracle  of  industry,  the  only  pat 
tern  of  perfection  for  these  affairs  ;  and  the 
benefit  of  fishing  is  that  primum  mobile  that 
turns  all  their  spheres  to  this  height  of  plenty, 
strength,  honor  and  exceeding  great  admira 
tion."* 

While  we  smile  at  this  overwrought  panegy 
ric  on  the  primitive  resource  of  our  fathers,  we 

*  Smith's  Generall  Historic,  he.  V*l.  II.  p.  185.  Richmond  Edit. 


38 

cannot  but  do  justice  to  the  principle,  on  which 
it  rests.  It  is  doubtless  to  the  untempting  quali 
ties  of  our  climate  and  soil,  and  the  conditions 
of  industry  and  frugality,  on  which  alone  the 
prosperity  of  the  colony  could  be  secured,  that 
we  are  to  look  for  a  full  share  of  the  final  suc 
cess,  that  crowned  the  enterprise. 

To  this  it  is  to  be  ascribed  that  the  country 
itself  was  not  preoccupied  by  a  crowded  popu 
lation  of  savages,  like  the  West  India  Islands, 
like  Mexico  and  Peru,  who,  placed  upon  a  soil 
yielding  almost  spontaneously  a  superabundance 
of  food,  had  multiplied  into  populous  empires, 
and  made  a  progress  in  the  arts,  which  served 
no  other  purpose,  than  to  give  strength  and  per 
manence  to  some  of  the  most  frightful  systems  of 
despotism,  that  ever  afflicted  humanity ;  systems 
uniting  all  that  is  most  horrible  in  depraved 
civilization  and  wild  barbarity.  The  problem 
indeed  is  hard  to  be  solved,  in  what  way  and  by 
what  steps  a  continent,  possessed  by  savage 
tribes,  is  to  be  lawfully  occupied  and  colonized 
by  civilized  man.*  But  this  question  was  di 
vested  of  much  of  its  practical  difficulty  by  the 
scantiness  of  the  native  population,  which  our 

*  See  Note  K. 


39 

fathers  found  in  New  England,  and  the  migra 
tory  life  to  which  the  necessity  of  the  chace  re 
duced  them.  It  is  owing  to  this,  that  the  annals 
of  New  England  exhibit  no  scenes  like  those 
which  were  acted  in  Hispaniola,  in  Mexico,  and 
Peru ;  no  tragedies  like  those  of  Anacoana,  of 
Guatimozin,  and  of  Atahualpa ;  no  statesman 
like  Bovadilla  ;  no  heroes  like  Pizarro  and 
Cortes ; 

"  No  dark  Ovando,  no  religious  Boyle." 

The  qualities  of  our  climate  and  soil  enter 
largely  in  other  ways  into  that  natural  basis,  on 
which  our  prosperity  and  our  freedom  have  been 
reared.  It  is  these  which  distinguish  the  smiling 
aspect  of  our  busy,  thriving  villages  from  the 
lucrative  desolation  of  the  sugar  islands,  and 
all  the  wide  spread,  undescribed,  indescribable 
miseries  of  the  colonial  system  of  modern  Eu 
rope,  as  it  has  existed  beyond  the  barrier  of 
these  mighty  oceans,  in  the  unvisited,  unpro 
tected,  and  unavenged  recesses  of  either  India. 
We  have  had  abundant  reason  to  be  contented 
with  this  austere  sky,  this  hard  unyielding  soil. 
Poor  as  it  is,  it  has  left  us  no  cause  to  sigh  for 
the  luxuries  of  the  tropics,  nor  to  covet  the  mines 
of  the  southern  regions  of  our  hemisphere.  Our 


40 

rough  and  hardly  subdued  hill  sides  and  barren 
plains  have  produced  us  that,  which  neither 
ores,  nor  spices,  nor  sweets  could  purchase, — 
which  would  not  spring  in  the  richest  gardens 
of  the  despotic  East.  The  compact  numbers 
and  the  strength,  the  general  intelligence  and 
the  civilization  which,  since  the  world  began, 
were  never  exhibited  beneath  the  sultry  line, 
have  been  the  precious  product  of  this  iron 
bound  coast.*  The  rocks  and  the  sands,  which 
would  yield  us  neither  the  cane  nor  the  coffee 
tree,  have  yielded  us,  not  only  an  abundance 
and  a  growth  in  resources,  rarely  consistent  with 
the  treacherous  profusion  of  the  tropical  colo 
nies,  but  the  habits,  the  manners,  the  institu 
tions,  the  industrious  population,  the  schools 
and  the  churches,  beyond  all  the  wealth  of  all 
the  Indies. 

"  Man  is  the  nobler  growth  our  soil  supplies, 
And  souls  are  ripened  in  our  northern  skies." 

Describe  to  me  a  country,  rich  in  veins  of  the 
precious  metals,  that  is  traversed  by  good  roads. 
Inform  me  of  the  convenience  of  bridges,  where 
the  rivers  roll  over  golden  sands.  Tell  me  of  a 
thrifty,  prosperous  village  of  freemen,  in  the 

*  See  Note  L. 


41 

miserable  districts  where  every  clod  of  the  earth 
is  kneaded  up  for  diamonds,  beneath  the  lash 
of  the  task  master.  No,  never  !  while  the  con 
stitution,  not  of  states,  but  of  human  nature,  re 
mains  the  same ;  never,  while  the  laws,  not  of 
civil  society,  but  of  God  are  unrepealed,  will 
there  be  a  hardy,  virtuous,  independent  yeo 
manry  in  regions  where  two  acres  of  untilled 
banana  will  feed  a  hundred  men.*  It  is  idle  to 
call  that/00d,  which  can  never  feed  a  free,  intel 
ligent,  industrious  population.  It  is  not  food. 
It  is  dust ;  it  is  chaff;  it  is  ashes  ; — there  is  no 
nourishment  in  it,  if  it  be  not  carefully  sown, 
and  painfully  reaped,  by  laborious  freemen,  on 
their  own  fee-simple  acres. 

IV.  Nor  ought  we  omit  to  say,  that  if  our 
fathers  found,  in  the  nature  of  the  region  to 
which  they  emigrated,  the  most  favorable  spot 
for  the  growth  of  a  free  and  happy  state,  they 
themselves  sprang  from  the  land,  the  best 
adapted  to  furnish  the  habits  and  principles 
essential  to  the  great  undertaking.  In  an  age 
that  speculates,  and  speculates  to  important 
purpose,  on  the  races  of  fossil  animals,  of  which 

*  S«e  Note  M. 


42 

no  living  specimen  has  existed  since  the  deluge, 
and  which  compares,  with  curious  criticism,  the 
dialects  of  languages  which  ceased  to  be  spoken 
a  thousand  years  ago,  it  cannot  be  called  idle  to 
inquire  which  of  the  different  countries  of  mo 
dern  Europe  possesses  the  qualities,  that  best 
adapt  it  to  become  the  parent  nation  of  a  new 
and  free  state.  I  know  not  in  fact,  what  more 
momentous  question  in  human  affairs  could  be 
asked,  than  that  which  regards  the  most  hope 
ful  lineage  of  a  collective  empire.  But  without 
engaging  in  so  extensive  a  discussion,  I  may 
presume  that  there  is  not  one  who  hears  me, 
that  does  not  feel  it  a  matter  of  congratulation 
and  joy,  that  our  fathers  were  Englishmen. 

No  character  is  perfect  among  nations,  more 
than  among  men,  nor  is  the  office  of  the  pane 
gyrist  more  respectable  towards  the  one  than 
the  other.  But  it  must  needs  be  conceded,  that 
after  our  own  country,  England  is  the  most 
favored  abode  of  liberty ;  or  rather,  that  besides 
our  own,  it  is  the  only  land  where  liberty  can 
be  said  to  exist ;  the  only  land  where  the  voice 
of  the  sovereign  is  not  stronger  than  the  voice 
of  the  law.  We  can  scarce  revolve  with  pa 
tience  the  idea,  that  we  might  have  been  a  Spa- 


43 

nish  colony,  a  Portuguese  colony,  or  a  Dutch 
colony  ;  we  can  scarcely  compare  with  coolness 
the  inheritance  of  those  institutions,  which  were 
transmitted  to  us  by  our  fathers,  with  that  which 
we  must  have  received  from  almost  any  other 
country ;  absolute  government,  military  despot 
ism,   privileged   orders,  and   the   holy  inquisi 
tion.*     What  would  have   been  the   condition 
of  this  flourishing  and  happy  land,  were  these 
the  institutions,  on  which  its  settlement  had  been 
founded  ?    There  are,  unfortunately,  too  many 
materials  for   answering    this  question,   in  the 
history  of  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  settle 
ments   on   the    American   continent,   from  the 
first  moment  of  unrelenting  waste  and  desola 
tion,  to  the  distractions  and  conflicts,  of  which 
we  ourselves  are  the  witnesses.     What   hope 
can  there  be  for  the  colonies  of  nations,  which 
possess  themselves  no  spring  of  improvement ; 
and  tolerate  none  in  the  regions  over  which  they 
rule ;  whose  administration  sets  no  bright  ex 
amples  of  political  independence ;  whose  lan 
guages  send  out  no  reviving  lessons  of  sound 
and  practical  science,  afraid  of  nothing  that  is 
true  of  manly  literature,  of  free  speculation ;  but 

*  See  Not*-  V 


44 

repeat,  with  every  ship  that  crosses  the  Atlantic, 
the  same  debasing  voice  of  despotism,  credu 
lity,  superstition,  and  slavery. 

Let  us  here  bring  our  general  conceptions 
down  to  an  example.  The  country  called  Bra 
zil,  and  till  lately  subject  to  the  kingdom  of 
Portugal,  (a  kingdom  more  nearly  of  the  size 
of  Tennessee  than  of  any  other  of  the  United 
States  ;) — the  country  of  Brazil,  stretching  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Oyapoco,  in  the  fourth  de 
gree  of  north  latitude,  to  the  Banda  Oriental 
in  the  thirty  third  degree  of  south,  and  from 
Peru  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean,*  is,  by  computation, 
one  tenth  part  more  extensive  than  the  entire 
territory  of  the  United  States.  Our  whole  vast 
possessions,  from  the  most  southern  point  of 
Florida  to  the  northeastern  extremity  of  Maine, 
and  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  Ocean, — 
possessions  which  the  Surveyor's  chain  has 
never  marked  out,  over  which  tribes  of  Indians 
yet  roam  undisturbed,  whose  numbers,  whose 
race,  whose  very  names  are  unknown, — tracts 
unexplored,  in  which  the  wild  hunter,  half 
savage,  half  outlaw,  has  not  yet  startled  the 
beaver,  on  the  still  and  solitary  banks  of  his 

*  See  Note  O. 


45 

hereditary  stream, — I  say  this  mighty  territory  is 
one  tenth  smaller  than  Brazil.  And  now  name 
to  me  a  book  in  the  Portuguese  language, 
where  a  Brazilian  could  read  so  much  as  the 
elements  of  liberty.  Name  to  me  a  law  in 
the  Portuguese  code,  to  protect  his  property 
from  confiscation  and  himself  from  the  rack 
or  the  stake,  whenever  the  minister  shall  give 
the  nod.  Name  me  an  institution  in  the  whole 
Portuguese  system,  in  the  remotest  degree 
favorable  to  the  progress  and  happiness  of 
man. — And  yet  it  is  from  this  despised  cor 
ner  of  Europe,  that  all  the  seed  must  come, 
to  sow  this  mighty  land.  It  is  from  this  de 
based  source  that  all  the  influences  have  gone 
forth,  which  have  for  three  centuries  actually 
decided,  and  for  centuries  more  must  deci 
sively  influence  the  destinies  of  these  all  but 
boundless  territories.* 

What  citizen  of  our  republic  is  not  grate 
ful  in  the  contrast  which  our  history  presents  ? 
— Who  does  not  feel,  what  reflecting  Ame 
rican  does  not  acknowledge,  the  incalculable 
advantages  derived  to  this  land,  out  of  the 

*  See  Note  P. 


46 

deep  fountains  of  civil,  intellectual,  and  moral 
truth,  from  which  we  have  drawn  in  England  ? — 
What  American  does  not  feel  proud  that  he 
is  descended  from  the  countrymen  of  Bacon, 
of  Newton,  and  of  Locke  ? — Who  does  not 
know,  that  while  every  pulse  of  civil  liberty 
in  the  heart  of  the  British  empire  beat  warm 
and  full  in  the  bosom  of  our  fathers  ;  the  so 
briety,  the  firmness,  and  the  dignity  with  which 
the  cause  of  free  principles  struggled  into  ex 
istence  here,  constantly  found  encouragement 
and  countenance  from  the  sons  of  liberty  there  ? 
— Who  does  not  remember  that  when  the  pil 
grims  went  over  the  sea,  the  prayers  of  the 
faithful  British  confessors,  in  all  the  quarters 
of  their  dispersion,  went  over  with  them,  while 
their  aching  eyes  were  strained,  till  the  star 
of  hope  should  go  up  in  the  western  skies  ? — 
And  who  will  ever  forget  that  in  that  eventful 
struggle,  which  severed  this  mighty  empire 
from  the  British  crown,  there  was  not  heard, 
throughout  our  continent  in  arms,  a  voice 
which  spoke  louder  for  the  rights  of  America, 
than  that  of  Burke  or  of  Chatham,  within  the 
walls  of  the  British  parliament,  and  at  the  foot 
of  the  British  throne  ? — No,  for  myself,  I  can 


47 

truly  say,  that  after  my  native  land,  I  feel  a 
tenderness  and  a  reverence  for  that  of  my 
fathers.  The  pride  I  take  in  my  own  country 
makes  me  respect  that  from  which  we  are 
sprung.  In  touching  the  soil  of  England,  I 
seem  to  return  like  a  descendant  to  the  old 
family  seat  ; — to  come  back  to  the  abode  of  an 
aged,  the  tomb  of  a  departed  parent.  I  acknow 
ledge  this  great  consanguinity  of  nations.  The 
sound  of  my  native  language  beyond  the  sea,  is 
a  music  to  my  ear,  beyond  the  richest  strains  of 
Tuscan  softness,  or  Castillian  majesty. — I  am 
not  yet  in  a  land  of  strangers,  while  surrounded 
by  the  manners,  the  habits,  the  forms,  in 
which  I  have  been  brought  up.  I  wander  de 
lighted  through  a  thousand  scenes,  which  the 
historians,  the  poets  have  made  familiar  to 
us, — of  which  the  names  are  interwoven  with 
our  earliest  associations.  I  tread  with  reve 
rence  the  spots,  where  I  can  retrace  the  foot 
steps  of  our  suffering  fathers ;  the  pleasant 
land  of  their  birth  has  a  claim  on  my  heart. 
It  seems  to  me  a  classic,  yea,  a  holy  land, 
rich  in  the  memories  of  the  great  and  good ; 
the  martyrs  of  liberty,  the  exiled  heralds  of 
truth ;  and  richer  as  the  parent  of  this  land 
of  promise  in  the  west. 


48 

I  am  not, — I  need  not  say  I  am  not, — the 
panegyrist  of  England.  I  am  not  dazzled  by 
her  riches,  nor  awed  by  her  power.  The 
s€eptre,  the  mitre,  and  the  coronet,  stars, 
garters,  and  blue  ribbons  seem  to  me  poor 
things  for  great  men  to  contend  for.  Nor 
is  my  admiration  awakened  by  her  armies, 
mustered  for  the  battles  of  Europe  ;  her  navies, 
overshadowing  the  ocean  ;  nor  her  empire 
grasping  the  farthest  east.  It  is  these,  and 
the  price  of  guilt  and  blood  by  which  they 
are  maintained,  which  are  the  cause  why  no 
friend  of  liberty  can  salute  her  with  undivi 
ded  affections.  But  it  is  the  refuge  of  free 
principles,  though  often  persecuted  ;  the  school 
of  religious  liberty,  the  more  precious  for 
the  struggles  to  which  it  has  been  called  ; 
the  tombs  of  those  who  have  reflected  honor 
on  all  who  speak  the  English  tongue  ;  it 
is  the  birthplace  of  our  fathers,  the  home 
of  the  pilgrims  ;  it  is  these  which  I  love  and 
venerate  in  England.  I  should  feel  ashamed 
of  an  enthusiasm  for  Italy  and  Greece,  did 
I  not  also  feel  it  for  a  land  like  this.  In 
an  American  it  would  seem  to  me  degene 
rate  and  ungrateful,  to  hang  with  passion 


49 

upon  the  traces  of  Homer  and  Virgil,  and 
follow  without  emotion  the  nearer  and  plainer 
footsteps  of  Shakspeare  arid  Milton  ;  and  I 
should  think  him  cold  in  his  love  for  his 
native  land,  who  felt  no  melting  in  his  heart 
for  that  other  native  land,  which  holds  the 
ashes  of  his  forefathers. 

V.  But  it  was  not  enough  that  our  fathers 
were  of  England  :  the  masters  of  Ireland,  and 
the  lords  of  Hindostan  are  of  England  too. 
But  our  fathers  were  Englishmen,  aggrieved, 
persecuted,  and  banished.  It  is  a  princi 
ple,  amply  borne  out  by  the  history  of  the 
great  and  powerful  nations  of  the  earth,  and 
by  that  of  none  more  than  the  country  of 
which  we  speak,  that  the  best  fruits  and 
choicest  action  of  the  commendable  qualities 
of  the  national  character,  are  to  be  found  on 
the  side  of  the  oppressed  few,  and  not  of 
the  triumphant  many.  As  in  private  cha 
racter,  adversity  is  often  requisite  to  give  a 
proper  direction  and  temper  to  strong  quali 
ties  ;  so  the  noblest  traits  of  national  cha 
racter,  even  under  the  freest  and  most  in 
dependent  of  hereditary  governments,  are  com- 


50 

monly  to  be  sought  in  the  ranks  of  a  pro 
testing  minority,  or  of  a  dissenting  sect.  Never 
was  this  truth  more  clearly  illustrated  than 
in  the  settlement  of  New  England. 

Could  a  common  calculation  of  policy  have 
dictated  the  terms  of  that  settlement,  no  doubt 
our  foundations  would  have  been  laid  beneath 
the  royal  smile.  Convoys  and  navies  would 
have  been  solicited  to  waft  our  fathers  to  the 
coast ;  armies,  to  defend  the  infant  communi 
ties  ;  and  the  flattering  patronage  of  princes 
and  lords,  to  espouse  their  interests  in  the  coun 
cils  of  the  mother  country.  Happy,  that  our 
fathers  enjoyed  no  such  patronage  ;  happy,  that 
they  fell  into  no  such  protecting  hands ;  happy, 
that  our  foundations  were  silently  and  deeply 
cast  in  quiet  insignificance,  beneath  a  charter  of 
banishment,  persecution,  and  contempt ;  so  that 
when  the  royal  arm  was  at  length  outstretched 
against  us,  instead  of  a  submissive  child,  tied 
down  by  former  graces,  it  found  a  youthful 
giant  in  the  land,  born  amidst  hardships,  and 
nourished  on  the  rocks,  indebted  for  no  favors, 
and  owing  no  duty.  From  the  dark  portals 
of  the  star  chamber,  and  in  the  stern  text  of  the 
acts  of  uniformity,  the  pilgrims  received  a  com- 


51 

mission,  more  efficient,  than  any  that  ever  bore 
the  royal  seal.  Their  banishment  to  Holland 
was  fortunate ;  the  decline  of  their  little  com 
pany  in  the  strange  land  was  fortunate  ;  the 
difficulties  which  they  experienced  in  getting 
the  royal  consent  to  banish  themselves  to  this 
wilderness  were  fortunate  ;  all  the  tears  and 
heart  breakings  of  that  ever  memorable  parting 
at  Delfthaven,  had  the  happiest  influence  on 
the  rising  destinies  of  New  England.  All  this 
purified  the  ranks  of  the  settlers.  These  rough 
touches  of  fortune  brushed  off  the  light,  uncer 
tain,  selfish  spirits.  They  made  it  a  grave,  sol 
emn,  self-denying  expedition,  and  required  of 
those  who  engaged  in  it,  to  be  so  too.  They 
cast  a  broad  shadow  of  thought  and  seriousness 
over  the  cause,  and  if  this  sometimes  deep 
ened  into  melancholy  and  bitterness,  can  we 
find  no  apology  for  such  a  human  weakness  ? 

It  is  sad  indeed  to  reflect  on  the  disasters, 
which  the  little  band  of  pilgrims  encountered. 
Sad  to  see  a  portion  of  them,  the  prey  of  unre 
lenting  cupidity,  treacherously  embarked  in  an 
unsound,  unseaworthy  ship,  which  they  are  soon 
obliged  to  abandon,  and  crowd  themselves  into 
one  vessel ;  one  hundred  persons,  besides  the 


52 

ship's  company,  in  a  vessel  of  one  hundred  and 
sixty  tons.  One  is  touched  at  the  story  of  the 
long,  cold,  and  weary  autumnal  passage  ;  of  the 
landing  on  the  inhospitable  rocks  at  this  dismal 
season  ;  where  they  are  deserted  before  long  by 
the  ship,  which  had  brought  them,  and  which 
seemed  their  only  hold  upon  the  world  of  fellow 
men,  a  prey  to  the  elements  and  to  want,  and 
fearfully  ignorant  of  the  numbers,  the  power, 
and  the  temper  of  the  savage  tribes,  that  filled 
the  unexplored  continent,  upon  whose  verge  they 
had  ventured.  But  all  this  wrought  together 
for  good.  These  trials  of  wandering  and  exile 
of  the  ocean,  the  winter,  the  wilderness  and  the 
savage  foe  were  the  final  assurance  of  success.* 
It  was  these  that  put  far  away  from  our  fathers' 
cause,  all  patrician  softness,  all  hereditary  claims 
to  preeminence.  No  effeminate  nobility  crowd 
ed  into  the  dark  and  austere  ranks  of  the  pil 
grims.  No  Carr  nor  Villiers  would  lead  on  the 
ill  provided  band  of  despised  Puritans.  No 
well  endowed  clergy  were  on  the  alert,  to  quit 
their  cathedrals,  and  set  up  a  pompous  hie 
rarchy  in  the  frozen  wilderness.  No  craving 
governors  were  anxious  to  be  sent  over  to  our 

*See  NoteQ. 


53 

cheerless  El  Dorados  of  ice  and  of  snow.  No, 
they  could  not  say  they  had  encouraged,  patron 
ised,  or  helped  the  pilgrims ;  their  own  cares, 
their  own  labors,  their  own  councils,  their  own 
blood,  contrived  all,  achieved  all,  bore  all, 
sealed  all.  They  could  not  afterwards  fairly 
pretend  to  reap  where  they  had  not  strewn  ;  and 
as  our  fathers  reared  this  broad  and  solid  fabric 
with  pains  and  watchfulness,  unaided,  barely 
tolerated,  it  did  not  fall  when  the  favor,  which 
had  always  been  withholden,  was  changed  into 
wrath;  when  the  arm,  which  had  never  sup 
ported,  was  raised  to  destroy. 

Methinks  I  see  it  now,  that  one  solitary,  ad 
venturous  vessel,  the  Mayflower  of  a  forlorn 
hope,  freighted  with  the  prospects  of  a  future 
state,  and  bound  across  the  unknown  sea.  I 
behold  it  pursuing,  with  a  thousand  misgivings, 
the  uncertain,  the  tedious  voyage.  Suns  rise 
and  set,  and  weeks  and  months  pass,  and  win 
ter  surprises  them  on  the  deep,  but  brings 
them  not  the  sight  of  the  wished  for  shore.  I 
see  them  now  scantily  supplied  with  provisions, 
crowded  almost  to  suffocation  in  their  illstored 
prison,  delayed  by  calms,  pursuing  a  circuitous 
route  ; — and  now  driven  in  fury  before  the 
7 


54 

raging  tempest,  on  the  high  and  giddy  waves. 
The  awful  voice  of  the  storm  howls  through 
the  rigging.  The  laboring  masts  seem  strain 
ing  from  their  base  ; — the  dismal  sound  of  the 
pumps  is  heard ; — the  ship  leaps,  as  it  were, 
madly,  from  billow  to  billow  ; — the  ocean 
breaks,  and  settles  with  engulphing  floods  over 
the  floating  deck,  and  beats  with  deadening, 
shivering  weight,  against  the  staggered  vessel. — 
I  see  them,  escaped  from  these  perils,  pursuing 
their  all  but  desperate  undertaking,  and  landed 
at  last,  after  a  five  months  passage,  on  the  ice 
clad  rocks  of  Plymouth, — weak  and  weary  from 
the  voyage, — poorly  armed,  scantily  provisioned, 
depending  on  the  charity  of  their  ship-master 
for  a  draught  of  beer  on  board,  drinking 
nothing  but  water  on  shore, — without  shelter, — 
without  means, — surrounded  by  hostile  tribes. 
Shut  now  the  volume  of  history,  and  tell  me, 
on  any  principle  of  human  probability,  what 
shall  be  the  fate  of  this  handful  of  adventurers. 
— Tell  me,  man  of  military  science,  in  how  ma 
ny  months  were  they  all  swept  off  by  the  thirty 
savage  tribes,  enumerated  within  the  early  lim 
its  of  New  England  ?  Tell  me,  politician,  how 
long  did  this  shadow  of  a  colony,  on  which 


55 

your  conventions  and  treaties  had  not  smiled, 
languish  on  the  distant  coast  ?  Student  of  his 
tory,  compare  for  me  the  baffled  projects,  the  de 
serted  settlements,  the  abandoned  adventures  of 
other  times,  and  find  the  parallel  of  this.  Was 
it  the  winter's  storm,  beating  upon  the  houseless 
heads  of  women  and  children  ;  was  it  hard  la 
bor  and  spare  meals  ; — was  it  disease, — was  it 
the  tomahawk, — was  it  the  deep  malady  of  a 
blighted  hope,  a  ruined  enterprise,  and  a  broken 
heart,  aching  in  its  last  moments,  at  the  recol 
lection  of  the  loved  and  left,  beyond  the  sea ; 
was  it  some,  or  all  of  these  united,  that  hurried 
this  forsaken  company  to  their  melancholy  fate  ? 
— And  is  it  possible  that  neither  of  these 
causes,  that  not  all  combined,  were  able  to  blast 
this  bud  of  hope  ? — Is  it  possible,  that  from  a 
beginning  so  feeble,  so  frail,  so  worthy,  not  so 
much  of  admiration  as  of  pity,  there  has  gone 
forth  a  progress  so  steady,  a  growth  so  won 
derful,  an  expansion  so  ample,  a  reality  so 
important,  a  promise,  yet  to  be  fulfilled,  so 
glorious  ? 

Such,   in  a  very  inadequate   statement,  are 
some  of  the  circumstances  under  which  the  set- 


56 

tlement  of  our  country  began.  The  historian 
of  Massachusetts,  after  having  given  a  brief  no 
tice  of  Carver,  of  Bradford,  of  Winslow,  of 
Brewster,  of  Standish,  and  others,  adds,  "  These 
were  the  founders  of  the  colony  of  Plymouth. 
The  settlement  of  this  colony  occasioned  the 
settlement  of  Massachusetts  Bay ;  which  was 
the  source  of  all  the  other  colonies  of  New  Eng 
land.  Virginia  was  in  a  dying  state,  and  seem 
ed  to  revive  and  flourish  from  the  example  of 
New  England.  I  am  not  preserving  from  obli 
vion,"  continues  he,  "  the  names  of  heroes  whose 
chief  merit  is  the  overthrow  of  cities,  of  pro 
vinces,  and  empires  ;  but  the  names  of  the  foun 
ders  of  a  flourishing  town  and  colony,  if  not  of 
the  whole  British  empire  in  America."*  This 
was  the  judicious  reflection  of  Hutchinson  sixty 
years  ago,  when  the  greatest  tribute  to  be  paid 
to  the  Fathers  of  Plymouth  was,  that  they  took 
the  lead  in  colonizing  the  British  possessions  in 
America.  What  then  ought  to  be  our  emotions, 
as  we  meet  on  this  anniversary,  upon  the  spot, 
where  the  first  successful  foundations  of  the 
great  American  republic  were  laid  ? 

*  Hutchinson's    History  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  Vol.   II.    Appendix, 
page  463. 


57 

Within  a  short  period,  an  incident  has  oc 
curred,  which  of  itself  connects,  in  the  most  gra 
tifying  association,  the  early  settlement  of  New 
England  with  the  present  growth  and  prosperity 
of  our  wide  extended  republic.  Within  the  past 
year,  the  sovereign  hand  of  this  great  confede 
racy  of  nations  has  been  extended  for  the  re 
storation  and  security  of  the  harbor,  where,  on 
the  day  we  celebrate,  the  germ  of  the  future 
growth  of  America  was  comprehended  within  one 
weather  beaten  vessel,  tossing  upon  the  tide,  on 
board  of  which,  in  the  words  of  Hutchinson,  the 
fathers  of  New  England,  by  a  solemn  instrument, 
"  formed  themselves  into  a  proper  democracy." 
Two  centuries  only  have  elapsed,  and  we  behold 
a  great  American  representation  convened,  from 
twenty  four  independent  and  flourishing  repub 
lics,  taking  under  their  patronage  the  local  inte 
rests  of  the  spot  where  our  fathers  landed,  and 
providing  in  the  same  act  of  appropriation,  for 
the  removal  of  obstacles  in  the  Mississippi  and 
the  repair  of  Plymouth  beach.  I  know  not  in 
what  words  a  more  beautiful  commentary  could 
be  written,  on  our  early  infancy  or  our  happy 
growth.  There  were  members  of  the  national 
Congress  which  made  that  appropriation,  I  will 


58 

not  say  from  distant  states,  but  from  different 
climates  ;  from  regions  which  the  sun  in  the 
heavens  does  not  reach  in  the  same  hour  that 
he  rises  on  us.  Happy  community  of  protec 
tion  !  Glorious  expansion  of  brotherhood  !  Bless 
ed  fulfilment  of  that  first  timorous  hope,  that 
warmed  the  bosoms  of  our  fathers ! 

Nor  is  it  even  our  mighty  territory,  to  which 
the  influence  of  the  principles  and  example  of 
the  fathers  of  New  England  is  confined.  While 
I  utter  the  words,  a  constitution  of  republican 
government,  closely  imitated  from  ours,  is  going 
into  operation  in  the  states  of  the  Mexican 
confederation,  a  region  more  extensive  than  all 
our  territories  east  of  the  Mississippi.*  Farther 
south,  the  provinces  of  central  America,  the  re 
public  of  Guatimala,  a  country  equal  in  magni 
tude  to  our  Atlantic  states,  has  sent  its  envoys 
to  solicit  an  union  with  us.  Will  posterity  be 
lieve  that  such  an  offer  was  made  and  refused, 
in  the  age  that  saw  England  and  Spain  rushing 
into  war,  for  the  possession  of  a  few  uninhabited 
islets  on  the  coast  of  Patagonia  ?  Pass  the  isth 
mus  of  Darien,  and  we  behold  the  sister  repub- 

*  See  Note  R. 


59 

lie  of  Colombia,  a  realm  two  thirds  as  large  as 
Europe,  ratifying  her  first  solemn  treaty  of  amity 
and  commerce  with  the  United  States ;  while  still 
onward  to  the  south,  in  the  valleys  of  the  Chi 
lian  Andes,  and  on  the  banks  of  the  La  Plata, 
in  states  not  less  vast  than  those  already  named, 
constitutions  of  republican  government  are  in 
prosperous  operation,  founded  on  our  principles, 
and  modelled  on  our  forms.  When  our  com 
missioners  visited  those  countries  in  1817,  they 
found  the  books  most  universally  read  among 
the  people,  were  the  constitutions  of  the  United 
States,  and  of  the  several  states,  translated  into 
the  language  of  the  country ;  while  the  public 
journals  were  filled  with  extracts  from  the  cele 
brated  "  Defence"  of  these  constitutions,  written 
by  that  venerable  descendant  of  the  Pilgrims, 
who  still  lives  to  witness  the  prosperous  opera 
tion  of  the  governments,  which  he  did  so  much 
to  establish.* 

I  do  not  fear  that  we  shall  be  accused  of  ex 
travagance  in  the  enthusiasm  we  feel  at  a  train 
of  events  of  such  astonishing  magnitude,  novel 
ty,  and  consequence,  connected  by  associations 

*  See  Note  S. 


60 

so  intimate,  with  the  day  we  now  hail ;  with  the 
events  we  now  celebrate ;  with  the  pilgrim  fa 
thers  of  New  England.  Victims  of  persecution! 
how  wide  an  empire  acknowledges  the  sway  of 
your  principles !  Apostles  of  liberty !  what  mil 
lions  attest  the  authenticity  of  your  mission  ! 
Meek  champions  of  truth,  no  stain  of  private 
interest  or  of  innocent  blood  is  on  the  spotless 
garments  of  your  renown  !  The  great  continents 
of  America  have  become,  at  length,  the  theatre 
of  your  achievements  ;  the  Atlantic  and  the  Pa 
cific,  the  highways  of  communication,  on  which 
your  principles,  your  institutions,  your  example 
are  borne.  From  the  oldest  abodes  of  civiliza 
tion,  the  venerable  plains  of  Greece,  to  the 
scarcely  explored  range  of  the  Cordilleras,  the 
impulse  you  gave  at  length  is  felt.  While  other 
regions  revere  you  as  the  leaders  of  this  great 
march  of  humanity,  we  are  met  on  this  joyful 
day,  to  offer  to  your  memories  our  tribute  of 
filial  affection.  The  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
Pilgrims,  we  have  assembled  on  the  spot  where 
you,  our  suffering  fathers,  set  foot  on  this  happy 
shore.  Happy  indeed,  it  has  been  for  us.  O  that 
you  could  have  enjoyed  those  blessings,  which 
you  prepared  for  your  children.  Could  our  com- 


^V^£*L  i ; '  -  <"  V 
61 

fortable  homes  have  shielded  you  from  the  wintry 
air ;  could  our  abundant  harvests  have  supplied 
you  in  time  of  famine ;  could  the  broad  shield 
of  our  beloved  country  have  sheltered  you  from 
the  visitations  of  arbitrary  power !  We  come  in 
our  prosperity  to  remember  your  trials  ;  and 
here  on  the  spot  where  New  England  began  to 
be,  we  come  to  learn  of  our  pilgrim  fathers  a 
deep  and  lasting  lesson  of  virtue,  enterprise, 
patience,  zeal,  and  faith ! 


8 


NOTES. 


Note  A,     Page  13. 

THE  object  of  this  Discourse  is  of  course  more  immediately  confined  to- 
New  England,  as  the  part  of  the  country  most  directly  affected  by 
the  settlement  of  Plymouth.  Some  of  the  topics,  however,  apply 
equally  to  all  parts  of  America  ;  others  to  all  the  English  Colonies 
on  this  Continent.  It  was  not  thought  necessary  to  interrupt  the 
train  of  remark,  in  each  single  case,  to  modify  it  in  reference  to  this 
qualification.  New  England  alone  is  generally  mentioned,  and  the 
more  or  less  extensive  application  of  each  separate  topic  of  observa 
tion  is  left  to  be  made  by  the  intelligent. 

Note  B.    Page  14. 

It  is  stated  by  Peter  Martyr,  the  first  writer  on  the  discovery  of 
America,  that  two  of  the  vessels  of  Columbus  were  without  decks. 
"  Ex  regio  fisco  destinata  sunt  tria  Navigia  ;  unum  onerarium  cave- 
atum,  alia  duo  levia  mercatoria  sine  caveis,  quae  ab  Hispanis  cara 
vels  vocantur."  (De  rebus  Oceancis,  p.  2.)  Peter  Martyr,*  who  had 
lived  and  served  long,  as  soldier  and  ambassador,  in  Spain,  cannot  be 
supposed  to  have  been  ignorant  of  the  sense,  in  which  the  word  Cd'dvel 
was  used  by  the  Spaniards.  At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  allowed  to  be  a 
circumstance  almost  incredible,  that  an  expedition,  like  that  of  Columbus, 
should  be  fitted  out,  with  two  out  of  three  vessels  unprovided  with  decks. 
In  Bossi's  Vita  di  Cristofero  Colombo,  published  at  Milan  in  1818,  is  an 
able  annotation  on  the  subject  of  the  Caravels.  It  is  there  asserted,  on 
the  credit  of  an  Italian  Marine  Dictionary,  (published  at  Milan  in  1813,  in 
three  vols.  4to.  and  bearing  a  high  character,)  that  the  word  "  Caravella 
is  known  in  the  Mediterranean,  as  indicating  the  larger  Turkish  ships  of 
war,  with  a  high  poop ;  but  that  in  Portugal  it  denotes  a  vessel  of  from 
120  to  140  tons  "  Du  Cange  in  his  Glossary  expresses  the  opinion,  that 
it  is  a  word  of  Italian  origin,  an  opinion,  which  de  Bossi  condemns,  re 
garding  it  rather  as  Turkish  or  Arabic,  and  probably  introduced  into  the 

*  He  must  be  carefully  distinguished  from  Peter  Martyr,  the  Reformer, 
who  taught  for  some  time  in  England,  and  who  flourished  near  a  half 
century  after  the  historian  The  name  of  Peter  Martyr  is  in  either  case 
the  Christian  name  only,  and  to  avoid  the  confusion,  it  might  be  expe 
dient  to  use  their  family  names.  That  of  the  reformer  was  Vermigli, 
that  of  the  historian  d'Anghiera.  An  account  of  the  former  is  given  m 
Tiraboschi,  VII.  327 :  of  the  latter,  in  the  same  author,  VIII.  366. 


64 

European  languages  by  the  Moors.  These  authors,  however,  are  appa 
rently  both  in  an  error.  The  true  origin  of  the  term  is,  no  doubt,  given 
in  Ferrarii  origines  linguse  Italics,  as  follows;  "  Caravela  navigii  minoris 
genus  :  Carabus ;  Grsece  Kopa&ov."  The  primitive  meaning  of  the  Latin 
Carabus  and  the  Greek  KapdSiov  is  Crab,  a  word,  in  fact,  derived  from 
them.  In  either  language,  the  word  was  used  to  signify  a  vessel  or  a  boat. 
The  word  KapdSiov  has  descended  to  the  modern  Greeks,  who  use  KapaSt 
for  a  vessel,  in  general ;  and  Isidore,  a  late  Latin  writer,  in  his  Origines, 
lib.  xix.  c.  1,  defines  a  Carabus  to  be  a  "  small  skin"  made  of  osiers,  which, 
covered  with  raw  leather,  forms  a  sort  of  boat."  There  seems,  therefore, 
much  reason  to  respect  the  authority  of  the  historian  first  quoted,  who 
describes  the  Caravel  of  the  Spaniards  as  a  light  open  vessel.  This  mi 
nuteness  of  criticism  will,  I  hope,  be  pardoned  on  a  subject  so  closely 
connected  with  the  discovery  of  America. 

Having  in  the  beginning  of  this  note  called  Peter  Martyr  d'Anghiera  the 
first  writer,  who  commemorates  Columbus,  (and  so  he  is  generally  reputed,) 
it  should  be  observed,  that  he  is  entitled  to  this  credit  of  precedence,  by  a 
very  slight  priority.  The  dedication  of  his  Decades  bears  date  Prid.  Calend. 
October,  or  September  80, 1516.  In  November  of  the  same  year,  was  pub 
lished  a  Polyglott  Psalter,  at  Genoa,  containing  the  Psalms  in  Hebrew, 
Greek,  Arabic,  and  Chaldee,  in  which,  in  the  form  of  a  note  on  Psalm  xix, 
5.  Their  line  is  gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of 
the  world,  is  given  an  account  of  Columbus  and  his  discoveries,  filling  seven 
octavo  pages,  as  copied  in  a  work  of  de  Murr.  This  is  doubtless  the  first 
account  of  Columbus,  for  P.  Martyr  d'Anghiera  introduces  him  simply  as 
"  Ligur  vir."  The  editor  of  this  Psalter  and  author  of  the  note  in  ques 
tion,  was  Guistiniani,  a  bishop,  and  as  he  speaks  of  Columbus  as  a  native 
of  Genoa,  at  a  period  so  early,  and  mentions  the  bequest  made  by  Colum 
bus  of  the  tenth  part  of  his  estates  to  the  city  of  Genoa,  his  authority  is 
of  great  weight  in  settling  the  contested  points  of  the  place  of  the  birth 
of  Columbus,  and  the  authenticity  of  his  will.  Since  the  appearance, 
however,  of  the  important  and  curious  work  entitled  Codice  diplomatic© 
Colombo-Americano  ossia  raccolta  di  document!  originali  e  inediti,  spet- 
tanti  a  Christofero  Colombo,  alia  scoperta  e  allo  governo  dell'  America, 
Genoa,  1823,  these  questions  may  be  considered  as  put  at  rest. 

This  last  very  curious  work,  which  has  not  yet  attracted  a  due  degree 
of  notice  from  the  public,  though  containing  more  official,  details  relative 
to  Columbus  than  all  the  other  works  hitherto  published  relative  to  Ame 
rica,  was  printed  by  order  of  the  magistrates  of  Genoa.  An  account  of 
the  English  translation  of  it  may  be  found  in  the  North  American  Review 
for  April  last,  page  415.  Two  manuscripts,  copies  of  the  grants,  patents, 
&c.  of  the  Spanish  government  to  Columbus  (from  one  of  which  the  work 
is  now  at  length  printed)  were  made  by  order  of  Columbus  himself,  and 
sent  to  his  friend  Oderigo,  in  Genoa.  In  1670,  the  descendant  of  Oderigo 
presented  the  two  manuscripts  to  the  magistracy  at  Genoa.  During  the 
French  Revolution  one  of  the  manuscripts  was  taken  to  Paris,  and  has 
not  yet  been  restored  to  Genoa.  The  other  was  supposed  to  be  lost,  till 
on  the  death  of  Count  Michcloni  Cambiasi,  a  Senator  of  Genoa,  it  was 
advertised  for  sale  among  his  books,  but  immediately  claimed  as  public 
property.  It  has  since  been  deposited  in  a  monument  erected  for  the 
purpose,  and  from  it  the  work  in  question  is  printed. 

Whether  the  two  manuscripts  thus  mentioned  be  the  only  ones  in  exist 
ence  may  admit  of  doubt.  When  I  was  in  Florence  in  1818,  a  small  folio 
manuscript  was  brought  to  me,  written  on  parchment,  apparently  two  or 
three  centuries  old,  in  binding  once  very  rich,  but  now  worn,  containing 


65 

a  series  of  documents  in  Latin  and  Spanish,  mostly  the  latter,  with  the 
following  title  on  the  first  blank  page,  "  Treslado  de  las  Bullas  del  Papa 
Alexandro  VI,  de  la  Concession  de  las  Indias  y  los  titulos,  privileges,  y 
cedulas  reales,  que  se  dieron  a  Christoval  Colon." — 1  was  led  by  this  title 
to  purchase  the  work  ;  but,  deterred  by  the  abundant  use  of  abbreviations 
and  a  limited  acquaintance  with  the  language,  I  made  no  attempt  for 
several  years  to  read  it.  My  attention  having  been  turned  again  to  it,  by 
the  publication  of  the  work  at  Genoa,  and  having  had  an  opportunity, 
by  the  kindness  of  a  friend,  of  seeing  a  copy  of  it,  the  only  one  perhaps 
in  this  part  of  the  country,  I  was  surprised  to  find  my  manuscript,  as  far 
as  it  goes,  nearly  identical  in  its  contents  with  that  of  Genoa,  supposed 
to  be  one  of  the  only  two  in  existence.  My  manuscript  consists  of  about 
eighty  closely  written  folio  pages,  which  coincide  precisely  with  the  text 
of  the  first  thirty  seven  documents,  contained  in  two  hundred  and  forty 
pages  of  the  Genoese  volume.  A  few  more  documents,  wanting  in  my 
manuscript,  are  found  in  the  Genoese  work ;  and  a  second  Bull  of  Alex 
ander  VI,  in  Latin,  is  contained  in  the  former,  and  is  wanting  in  the 
latter. 

In  the  last  of  the  documents,  contained  in  the  Genoese  volume,  and 
wanting  in  my  manuscript,  we  read  as  follows  ; 

"  Los  originates  destos  privillegios  y  cartas  y  cedulas  y  otras  muchas 
cartas  de  sus  Altezas  e  otras  escripturas,  tocantes  al  Sefior  Almirante, 
estan  en  el  monasterio  de  Sancta  Maria  de  las  Cuevas  de  Sevilla. 

"  Otrosy  esta,  en  el  dicho  Monasterio  un  libro  traslado  de  los  privi- 
legios  e  cartas  susodichos,  semejante  que  esto. 

"  Otro  traslado  levo  este  aiio  de  M.  D  II.  y  tiene  Alonso  Sanchez  de 
Carvajal  a  las  Yndias,  escripto  en  papel  e  abtorizado. 

"  Otro  traslado  en  pergamino  tal  como  este." 

Mention  is  here  accordingly  made  of  four  copies  of  these  documents, 
three  on  parchment  and  one  on  paper.  Two  of  them  were  sent  by  Co 
lumbus  himself  to  Genoa.  Whether  that  procured  by  me  at  Florence  be 
a  third ;  whether  it  be  that  supposed  to  be  at  Paris  ;  or,  what  is  more 
probable  perhaps,  another  copy,  there  are  at  present  no  means  of  decid 
ing.  I  hope  to  have  in  my  power,  on  some  other  occasion,  to  describe  it 
more  accurately,  particularly  in  those  respects,  in  which  it  differs  from 
the  Genoese  volume. 

Note  C.     Page  15. 

It  is  probable  that  the  great  extent,  to  which  the  business  of  fishing  on 
the  banks  of  Newfoundland  and  the  New  England  coasts  was  early  car 
ried,  was  one  chief  cause  of  the  familiarity  of  men  with  the  idea  of  the 
passage  across  the  Atlantic,  and  consequently  of  the  readiness  of  our 
forefathers  to  undertake  it.  It  appears,  that  as  early  as  1578,  there  were 
employed  in  this  fishery,  of  Spaniards  100  sail,  besides  20  or  30  in  the 
whale  fishery  on  the  same  coasts  ;  of  Portuguese  50 ;  of  French  150 ;  of 
English  from  30  to  50.  (Hakluyt,  Vol.  III.  p.  132,  cited  in  the  JVbrt/i  Ame 
rican  Review  for  July,  1824,  p.  140.)  Captain  Smith  remarks,  that  ac 
cording  to  "  Whitbourne's  discovery  of  Newfoundland,"  the  banks  and 
coasts  in  that  region  were  visited  by  250  sail  of  English  fishermen  annu 
ally.  (Vol.  II.  p.  246,  Richmond  Edition.)  So  important  was  this  work  of 
Whitbourne  esteemed  for  the  encouragement  of  the  British  fisheries  that, 
by  an  order  in  Council,  dated  12th  of  April,  1622,  it  was  ordered  to  be 
distributed  to  every  parish  in  the  kingdom.  (Ancient  Right  of  the  English 
Nation  to  the  American  Fisheries,  &c.  London,  1764.)  The  last  cited 
valuable  treatise  contains  (page  50)  an  important  statement  of  the  amount 


66 

of  the  French  fishery  in  1745,  "made  in  that  year,  at  the  desire  of  the 
Governor  of  the  Massachusetts  province,  by  Mr  Thomas  Kilby."  By  this 
account,  it  appears  that  "  564  ships  in  all,  and  27,500  men  were  yearly 
employed  from  France  on  the  banks  of  Newfoundland."  The  extent  of 
the  British  fisheries,  in  this  quarter,  on  an  average  of  three  years  ending 
1773,  may  be  seen  in  Lord  Sheffield's  Observations  on  the  Commerce  of 
the  American  States,  6th  Ed.  p.  64.  From  one  of  the  documents  in  the 
work  entitled,  "  The  Fisheries  and  the  Mississippi,"  by  the  present  Sec 
retary  of  State,  it  appears  that  before  1810,  there  were  annually  employed 
from  the  United  States  1232  vessels  in  the  Bank,  Bay,  and  Labrador 
fisheries,  navigated  by  10,459  men. — See  also  Seybert's  Statistics,  p.  333. 

Note  D.     Page  29. 

"  From  the  commencement  of  the  religious  war  in  Germany  to  the 
peace  of  Westphalia,  scarce  any  thing  great  or  memorable  occurred  in 
the  European  political  world,  with  which  the  reformation  was  not  essen 
tially  connected.  Every  event  in  the  history  of  the  world  in  this  interval, 
if  not  directly  occasioned,  was  nearly  influenced  by  this  religious  revolu 
tion,  and  every  state,  great  or  small,  remotely  or  directly  experienced  its 
influence."  Schiller's  Geschichte  des  dreissigjahrigen  Krieges.  I.  1. 

Note  E.     Page  29. 

The  close  connexion  of  the  religious  and  political  system  of  Rome  is 
sufficiently  shown  by  the  authority  of  Cicero. —  He  begins  the  Oration 
pro  domo  sua,  in  these  words,  cum  multa  divinitus,  Pontifices,  a  majori- 
bus  nostris  inventa  atque  instituta  sunt ;  turn  nihil  praclarius  quam  quod 
eosdem  et  religionibus  deorum  immortalium  et  summse  Reipublicae  praeesse 
voluerunt;  ut  amplissimi  et  clarissimi  cives  rempublicam  bene  gerendo 
religiones  sapienter  interpretando  conservarent.  Whence  is  it  that  a  prin 
ciple  should  be  commended  by  so  wise  a  statesman  as  Cicero,  and  in 
point  of  experience  have  been  found  so  salutary  in  Rome,  which  has 
been  uniformly  productive  of  evil  in  modern  states  and  condemned  by 
the  soundest  politicians  ? — The  cause  of  the  apparent  anomaly  is  no 
doubt  to  be  found  in  the  organization  of  the  church  as  a  separate  insti 
tution,  having  its  own  principles  of  growth  and  decline  ;  and  the  organi 
zation  of  the  clergy  as  a  body  having  its  own  interest. — Such  a  body, 
when  entrusted  with  power  in  the  state,  will  be  apt  to  exercise  it  under 
the  influence  of  the  esprit  du  corps  for  its  own  advancement.  In  Rome, 
the  public  religion  rested  upon  no  other  sanction  than  any  other  part  of 
the  public  system  and  the  ministers  of  religion,  not  belonging  to  a  sep 
arate  consecrated  body,  were  not  liable  to  be  influenced  by  any  other 
than  reasons  of  state  in  the  administration  of  their  religious  functions. 
Although  such  a  state  of  things  might  seem  unfriendly  to  religious  influ 
ence,  it  produced  not  that  effect  on  the  Romans,  who  may  be  character 
ized,  during  the  Republic,  as  a  religious  people. — 

A  list  of  the  Pontifices  Maximi  may  be  found  at  the  close  of  the 
learned  treatise  of  Bosii  de  pontifict  maxima  Romce  veteris.  It  contains 
the  most  familiar  names  in  the  civil  history  of  Rome.  After  the  fall  of 
the  Republic,  the  Emperors  regularly  assumed  the  title  of  Pontifex  Maxi- 
mus,  as  is  shown  in  another  treatise  of  the  same  author,  Bosii  de  Pon- 
tificatu  maxima  imperil  Romani  exercitatio.  W7hat  is  somewhat  singular 
is,  that  this  title  of  High  Priest,  originating  in  the  ancient  Roman  pagan 
ism,  should  have  been  retained  by  the  Christian  emperors  down  to  Gra- 
tian.  It  was  afterwards  adopted  by  the  Popes,  a  circumstance  which 
appears  to  have  escaped  Middleton  in  his  letter  from  Rome. 


67 

The  oft  quoted  exclamation  of  Dante,  shows  at  how  early  a  period  the 
principle  of  the  reformation  had  suggested  itself  to  the  independent 
thinkers. 

Ahi,  Costantin,  di  quanto  mal  fu  madre, 

Non  la  tua  conversion,  ma  quella  dote, 

Che  da  te  prese  il  primo  ricco  padre. 

NoteF.     Page  30. 

The  treatment  which  Pope  Boniface  VIII  received  from  Philip  the  fan- 
in  the  fourteenth  century,  was  as  much  more  audacious  than  any  thing  in 
the  recent  history  of  the  Papal  see,  as  the  power  of  Boniface  was  great 
er  than  that  of  Pius  VII.  Philip  not  only  returned  the  most  con 
temptuous  answers  to  the  Pope's  letters,  but  sent  William  de  Nogaret, 
(justlv  called  by  Mosheim,  the  most  intrepid  and  inveterate  enemy  of  the 
Pope  before  Luther)  into  Italy  to  excite  a  sedition,  to  seize  the  person  of 
Boniface  and  bring  him  in  chains  to  Lyons.  This  he  so  far  effected  as 
to  get  possession  of  the  Pope,  whom  he  loaded  with  indignities,  and  even 
struck  on  the  head  with  an  iron  gauntlet.  Though  rescued  by  the  citi 
zens  of  Anagni,  from  the  hands  of  de  Nogaret,  he  died  soon  after  "  of  the 
rage  and  anguish  into  which  these  insults  threw  him."  It  is  useful  to  re- 
cal  these  traits  of  history,  to  enable  us  to  judge  more  impartially  of  con 
temporary  events. 

Note  G.     Page  30. 

The  progress  of  religious  reform,  to  which  I  have  alluded,  concerns 
only  the  connexion  of  church  and  state.  As  this  connexion  was  more 
intimate  in  the  Catholic  church,  than  in  any  other,  that  church  was  so  far 
the  most  corrupt.  And  as  this  connexion  was  unquestionably  as  preju 
dicial  to  the  church,  as  to  the  state,  the  catholics  have  really  as  much 
reason  to  rejoice  in  the  reformation  as  the  protestants.  There  can  be  but 
little  doubt,  in  the  mind  of  any  one  who  reads  the  history  of  the  middle 
ages,  that  the  interests  of  no  communion  of  Christians  have  been  more 
advanced  by  the  reformation,  than  of  that  which  regards  the  Pope  as  its 
head. 

In  like  manner,  in  speaking  of  the  reform  carried  on  in  England  by  the 
dissenters  and  puritans,  no  other  reference  is  had  than  to  the  political 
question  of  the  union  of  church  and  state.  This  union,  as  existing  in 
England,  I  consider  a  great  political  abuse.  As  to  the  doctrinal  points 
agitated  between  the  catholics  and  protestants ;  the  church  of  England 
and  dissenters ;  however  important  they  may  have  been  at  different  times 
thought,  so  long  as  they  rested  within  the  limits  of  speculative  theology, 
their  settlement,  one  way  or  the  other,  could  have  had  but  little  effect  on 
the  condition  of  states. 

Note  H.     Page  31. 

Bishop  Burnet  has  discriminated  the  Presbyterians  and  Independents, 
in  the  following  manner.  "  The  main  difference  between  these  was,  that 
the  Presbyterians  seemed  reconcilable  to  the  church  ;  for  they  loved 
episcopal  ordination  and  a  liturgy,  and  upon  some  amendments  seemed 
disposed  to  come  into  the  church ;  and  they  liked  the  civil  government 
and  limited  monarchy.  But  as  the  independents  were  for  a  common 
wealth  in  the  state,  so  they  put  all  the  power  in  the  church  in  the  people, 
and  thought  that  their  choice  was  an  ordination  :  nor  did  they  approve  of 
fet  forms  of  worship."  History  of  his  own  Times.  II.  406. 


68 

This  character,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  given  of  the  Indepen 
dents,  after  the  times  of  the  commonwealth  in  England.  At  the  period 
of  the  first  emigrations  to  New  England,  there  is  no  reason  for  accusing 
the  independents  of  disaffection  to  the  civil  government. 

In  161'J,  Mr.  Robinson  published,  at  Leyden,  "  Apologia  pro  exulibus  Ari- 
glis  qui  Brownistse  vulgo  appellantur."  Mosheim  conjectures  that  the 
name  of  Independents  may  have  grown  out  of  a  word  in  the  following  sen 
tence,  in  which  the  leading  principle  of  their  religious  peculiarities  is  ex 
pressed,  "  Coetum  quemlibet  particularem  esse  totam,  integram,  et  perfect- 
am  ecclesiam  ex  suis  partibus  constantem,  immediate  et  independcnter 
(quoad  alias  ecclesias)  sub  ipso  Christo."  Jlpologia,  Cap.  V.  p.  22.  Cited 
in  Mosheim,  V.  388. 

Note  I.    Page  34. 

A  considerable,  and  the  most  elaborate  part  of  Burke's  Reflections  on 
the  Revolution  in  France,  is  occupied  in  refuting  the  assertion  of  Dr 
Price,  that,  by  the  Revolution  in  1688,  the  English  people  acquired  "  the 
right  to  choose  their  own  governors,  to  cashier  them  for  misconduct,  and 
to  frame  a  government  for  themselves."  It  is  certainly  too  much  to  say, 
in  unlimited  terms,  that  the  English  Constitution,  as  fixed  at  the  Revolu 
tion,  gives  a  right  of  choosing  or  removing  the  king.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  equally  certain  that  both  at,  after,  and  before  the  Revolution,  Parlia 
ment  claimed  and  exercised  the  right  of  choosing  and  deposing  the  king 
and  limiting  the  succession.  Burke  expresses  himself  thus  :  "  So  far  is  it 
from  being  true  that  we  acquired  a  right,  by  the  Revolution,  to  elect  our 
kings,  that  if  we  had  possessed  it  before,  the  English  nation  did,  at  that 
time,  most  solemnly  renounce  and  abdicate  it  for  themselves,  and  for  all 
their  posterity  forever.  These  gentlemen  [Dr  Price  and  his  party]  may 
value  themselves  as  much  as  they  please  on  their  whig  principles  ;  but  I 
never  desire  to  be  thought  a  better  whig  than  Lord  Somers,"  fee. 

Lord  Somers  is  thus  particularly  appealed  to  by  Mr  Burke,  in  support 
of  his  construction  of  the  Constitution,  because  the  declaration  of  right 
was  drawn  by  him.  But  it  is  somewhat  remarkable  that  Burke  should 
have  insisted  so  much  on  this  authority,  for  Lord  Somers  printed  a  work 
in  1710,  of  which  the  title  sufficiently  shows  the  object : — "  A  brief  history 
of  the  succession  of  the  Crown  of  England  ;  wherein  facts  collected  from 
the  best  authorities  are  opposed  to  the  novel  assertors  of  indefeasible 
hereditary  right."  After  having  in  this  work,  gone  through  with  a  mas 
terly  deduction  of  the  history  of  the  English  crown  from  the  esta 
blishment  of  it.  Lord  Somers  sums  up,  as  follows :  "  I  shall  leave  every 
man  to  make  his  own  observations  on  this  historical  deduction.  But  this 
one  observation  I  believe  all  men  must  make  from  it ;  that  it  hath  been 
the  constant  opinion  of  all  ages,  that  the  Parliament  of  England  had  an 
unquestionable  power  to  limit,  restrain,  and  qualify  the  succession  as  they 
pleased,  and  that  in  all  ages  they  have  put  their  power  in  practice ;  and 
that  the  historian*  had  reason  for  saying,  that  seldom  or  never  the  third 
heir  in  a  right  descent  enjoyed  the  crown  of  England  !" 

NoteK.     Page  38. 

The  settlements  made  by  civilized  Europeans  on  the  coasts  of  America 
and  of  other  countries  occupied  by  savages,  have  evidently  proceeded  on 
the  assumption  of  peculiar  principles  of  national  or  rather  social  law. 

*  « Daniel,  fol.  5.  in  vita  H.  I.' 


69 

Not  only  the  arbitrary  kings  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  but  the  constitutional 
king  of  England,  claimed  a  right  of  occupying,  possessing,  and  granting 
to  individuals  or  companies,  all  newly  discovered  heathen  lands;  nor  was 
it  admitted  that  the  natives  had  any  right  to  the  soil,  in  the  same  sense 
that  citizens  of  one  country  acknowledge  each  other's  rights,  and  the  go- 
Ternments  of  friendly  nations  the  rights  of  each  other's  subjects.  There 
does  not  seem  to  be  any  principle  of  natural  law,  by  which  savage  tribes 
can  claim  full  right  to  the  whole  of  the  widest  region,  which  they  wander 
over  in  the  chase,  and  to  the  perpetual  exclusion  of  civilized  settlers.  If 
then  savage  nations  have  not  a  full  right,  what  right  have  they ;  and  to 
how  much  territory  have  they  any  right  ?  These  are  questions  not  yet  well 
settled. — What  is  the  ground  and  extent  of  the  obligation,  which  a  civil 
ized  community  is  under,  by  inalienable  reservations  of  land  and  by  libe 
ral  appropriations  of  money,  to  introduce  the  arts  of  civilized  life  among 
border  tribes  of  a  different  race  and  language,  with  whom  no  intermixture 
of  blood  can  take  place  without  degeneracy  ? — As  modes  of  diffusing  civili 
zation  most  widely,  is  the  choice  well  established  between  the  increase  of  a 
civilized  population  and  civilizing  a  barbarous  one?  These  questions  pre 
sent  themselves  in  their  most  delicate  form,  in  the  present  controversy  in 
the  state  of  Georgia,  and  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they  are  fully  solved 
on  the  general  notions  of  humanity  usually  applied  to  them,  however 
strong  and  natural  the  prepossession  felt  at  a  distance  in  favor  of  a  weaker 
party. 

Note  L.    Page  40. 

As  it  is  now  generally  admitted  that  a  temperate  climate  is  essential  to 
the  attainment  of  the  highest  degrees  of  civilization,  (Heeren's  Ideen  Th. 
V.  jillgemeine  Vorerinnerungenf)  there  is  more  reason  than  ever  to  depart 
from  the  ancient  phraseology  of  Zones,  in  the  use  of  which  we  almost 
unconsciously  connect  the  idea  of  certain  degrees  of  heat  or  cold  with 
certain  parallels  of  latitude.  The  remarks  in  the  text,  relative  to  tropical 
regions,  must  of  course  be  confined  to  tropical  climates.  Our  own  conti 
nents  present  the  most  striking  instances  of  the  change  of  climate  ;  and 
of  natural  productions,  state  of  civilization,  and  social  character,  as  affect 
ed  by  climate  ;  in  travelling,  on  the  same  parallel,  from  the  coasts  to  the 
summits  of  the  mountains. 

The  Atlas  of  Humboldt  contains  a  curious  comparative  view  of  the  dif 
ferent  altitude  of  the  limit  of  perpetual  congelation  in  different  latitudes. 
And  his  Essay  on  Isothermal  lines,  as  well  as  various  parts  of  his  large 
works,  furnish  the  most  instructive  illustrations  of  the  same  subject.  See 
particularly  his  Relation  Historique,  Tom,  II  p.  350. 

Note  M.     Page  41. 

"  I  doubt  if  there  be  another  plant  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  which, 
on  a  small  space  of  soil,  produces  a  quantity  of  nutritious  substance  so 
considerable  as  the  banana.  Eight  or  nine  months  after  the  sucker  is 
planted,  the  banana  tree  begins  to  develope  its  cluster,  and  the  fruit  may 
be  gathered  the  tenth  or  eleventh  month.  When  the  stalk  is  cut,  there  ig 
constantly  found  among  the  numerous  shoots,  which  have  sprung  from 
the  roots,  a  sprout  (pimpollo)  which  with  two  thirds  the  height  of  the  pa 
rent  plant,  bears  fruit  three  months  later.  It  is  thus  that  a  plantation  of 
banana,  which  is  called  in  the  Spanish  colonies  a  Platanar,  perpetuates 
itself  without  any  other  care  than  that  of  cutting  the  stalks,  whose  fruit 
has  ripened,  and  digging  the  earth  slightly  about  the  roots  once  or  twice 

9 


70 

a  year.  A  spot  of  ground  of  one  hundred  square  metres  (about  one  tentij 
more  than  so  many  square  yards)  in  surface,  is  sufficient  to  contain  at 
least  from  thirty  to  forty  banana  plants.  This  spot  of  ground,  reckoning 
the  weight  of  the  cluster  only  at  from  about  thirty  five  to  forty  five  pounds, 
would  yield  nearly  four  thousand  five  hundred  weight  of  food.  What  a 
difference  between  this  product  and  that  of  the  cereal  gramina,  in  the 
most  fertile  parts  of  Europe.  Wheat,  supposing  it  sown  and  not  planted, 
in  the  Chinese  way,  and  calculating  on  the  basis  of  a  tenfold  increase, 
does  not  produce,  on  a  hundred  square  metres,  more  than  about  thirty 
three  pounds  weight  of  grain.  In  France  the  legal  acre  of  54,995  square 
feet,  is  sown  broadcast  in  very  good  land,  with  about  160  pounds  of 
grain,  on  medium  and  poor  land  with  from  200  to  220  pounds  ;  and  the 
produce  varies  trom  1000  to  2500  pounds  the  acre.  The  potato,  ac 
cording  to  M.  Tessier  yields  in  Europe,  on  one  hundred  square  metres  of 
land  well  manured,  about  one  hundred  pounds  of  the  root ;  or  from  four 
to  six  thousand  pounds  on  the  acre  of  France.  The  product  of  the 
banana  is  consequently  to  that  of  wheat  as  133  to  1  ;  and  to  that  of 
potatoes  as  44  to  1." 

"  In  an  eminently  fertile  country,  a  legal  French  acre  cultivated  with 
banana  of  the  larger  kind  (Platano  Jlrton)  would  feed  more  than  fifty 
persons  for  a  year  ;  while  in  Europe  the  same  acre,  on  the  principle  of  an 
eight  fold  increase,  would  yield  but  about  twelve  hundred  pounds  of 
wheat,  a  quantity  not  equal  to  the  support  for  a  year  of  two  persons."— 
Humboldt  Essai  Politiqut  sur  le  Royaume  de  la  Nouvelle  Espagne.  Tom. 
III.  28,  35. 

Note  N.     Page  43. 

It  need  not  be  said,  that  the  remarks,  which  are  made  in  the  text,  rela 
tive  to  the  colonial  establishments  of  different  nations  on  the  American 
soil,  can  be  intended  to  convey  no  disrespectful  insinuation  toward  the 
free  states  now  rising  upon  those  colonial  foundations. — The  very  magni 
tude  of  the  abuses  of  the  ancient  system  is  among  the  causes  of  the  con 
vulsive  efforts,  which  have  been  made,  in  our  days,  against  those  abuses; 
and  the  Patriots,  who,  under  infinite  discouragements,  have  effected  thug 
far  the  political  regeneration  of  those  vast  regions,  are  entitled  to  the 
greater  praise  for  the  difficulties  incident  to  their  enterprise.  But  that  they 
are  under  no  obligation  to  principles  and  examples  derived  from  the 
mother  country  ;  that  the  institutions  established  in  the  Spanish  and  Por 
tuguese  colonies,  instead  of  serving  as  a  school  of  freedom — like  the 
colonial  institutions  in  the  North  American  colonies — were  of  a  nature 
to  retard  the  growth  of  independence,  cannot  be  doubted. — Even  in  es 
tablishing  a  form  of  free  government,  the  leaders  of  the  revolution  in 
Colombia,  have  been  obliged  to  express  their  regret  that  the  state  of  the 
country  and  of  its  population  did  not  allow  them  to  prefer  the  Federative 
System  of  the  United  States  to  the  less  perfect  Central  System,  which 
they  have  adopted. — See  the  opinions  of  Bolivar  and  M.  de  Salazar  as 
quoted  in  the  North  American  Review  for  Jan.  1825.  p.  79. 

Note  O.     Page  44. 

Few  questions  in  Geography  have  been  the  subject  of  more  important 
controversies  than  the  limits  of  Hi  a/.il.  It  is  not  a  little  astonishing  to 
see  states  like  Spain  and  Portugal,  which  had  respectively  by  the  dis 
covery  of  \merica  and  the  passage  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  made  the 
acquisition  of  new  territory  larger  than  Europe,  contesting  with  bit 
terness  a  few  square  leagues  of  morass  on  the  banks  of  the  Amazon  and 


71 

its  tributaries. — The  facts,  on  which  the  controversies  alluded  to  turned, 
are  principally  these.  Pope  Nicholas  V,  in  1454,  granted  to  Alfonso 
King  of  Portugal,  in  full  sovereignty,  all  the  countries,  which  he  should 
discover  from  Cape  JVon  in  Africa  to  India.*  About  the  time  of  this 
grant  the  navigators  of  Portugal  discovered  the  Cape  de  Verde  Islands, 
and  the  Azores.  In  1486,  the  Portuguese  navigator  Diaz  discovered  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope.  In  1492  Columbus  discovered  America  ;  and 
controversies  immediately  arose  between  the  Courts  of  Spain  and  Por 
tugal,  relative  to  the  interference  of  their  several  discoveries.  To  settle 
this  controversy  the  Spanish  Court  procured  of  Pope  Alexander  VI, 
(himself  a  Spaniard,)  the  famous  bull  bearing  date  May  1493,  in  which 
he  gives  to  the  king  of  Spain,  in  full  sovereignty,  "  All  the  islands  and 
continents  which  are  or  may  be  found,  (Omnes  insulas  et  terras  firmas 
inventas  et  inveniendas,  detectas  et  detegendas,)  to  the  south  and  west  of 
a  meridian  line  drawn  one  hundred  leagues  south  of  the  southernmost  of 
the  Azores  or  Cape  de  Verde  Islands. — This  is  the  famous  "  line  of  de 
marcation;"  for  though,  (contrary  to  the  popular  representation)  nothing 
is  said,  in  this  bull,  of  the  right  of  the  Portuguese  to  all  discoveries  east 
of  the  line,  yet  the  former  Papal  grant  to  Portugal,  already  mentioned, 
had  given  to  that  kingdom  the  sovereignty  over  its  discoveries  in  the 
east.  The  Portuguese  having  shortly  after  acquired  Brazil,  by  the  dis 
coveries  of  Pinzon,  who  had  been  of  the  company  of  Columbus  on  his 
first  voyage,  it  was  perceived  that  it  lay  to  the  westward  of  the  line  of 
demarcation,  and  of  course  was  subject  to  the  Spanish  claim.  By  the 
treaty  of  Tordesillas,  in  1494,  these  conflicting  rights  were  compromised, 
and  the  sovereigns  of  Spain  and  Portugal  agreed  to  run  the  line  three 
hundred  and  seventy  leagues  west  of  that  prescribed  by  the  Pope's  bull. 
This  memorable  line,  by  which  the  territory  of  three  fourth  parts  of  the 
globe  was  divided,  was  to  be  run  by  skilful  geographers,  within  ten 
months.  Herrera  (Dtcad.  III.  lib.  VI.)  describes,  in  a  manner  ap 
proaching  the  ludicrous,  the  array  of  maps,  charts,  globes,  and  instru 
ments,  which  the  geographers  brought  to  this  discussion  ;  and  Humboldt 
justly  remarks  in  reference  to  these  and  other  kindred  contests,  (Relation 
Historique,  Tom.  II.  p  441,)  that  the  interests  of  science  alone  have  been 
served  by  them.  While  the  question  was  keenly  agitated  between  the 
Portuguese  and  Spanish  geographers,  the  former  striving  to  run  the  line 
as  far  west  and  the  latter  as  far  east  as  possible,  the  discovery  and 
occupation  of  the  Moluccas  by  the  Portuguese,  completely  inverted  the 
policy  of  both  parties.  These  valuable  islands  were  perceived  tp  be 
nearly  opposite  the  Cape  de  Verdes,  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe ;  and 
the  farther  to  the  west  of  the  Cape  de  Verdes  the  line  of  demarcation  was 
run,  so  much  more  of  the  Moluccas  and  other  neighboring  islands 
would  fall  within  the  Spanish  hemisphere.  The  Portuguese  geographers 
now  contended  that  the  line  of  demarcation  should  be  counted  370 
leagues  from  a  line  running  through  the  isle  of  Satis,  the  easternmost  of 
the  Cape  de  Verdes,  while  the  Spaniards  counted  the  370  leagues  from 
a  line  running  through  St  Antonio,  which  was  ninety  leagues  more  to 
the  west,  and  was  the  most  western  of  the  group  ; — each  party  being 
anxious  to  lose  in  Brazil,  that  it  might  gain  in  the  Spice  islands. — The 
controversy  was  protracted  for  many  years,  till  in  1580,  it  was,  for  a  time, 
settled  by  the  union  of  the  two  crowns  of  Spain  and  Portugal.  (De 
Laet,  Novus  Orbis,  p.  541.) 

*  See  the  original  document  in  the  great  Corps  Diplomatique.     Tom. 


72 

Alter  their  separation  in  1640,  the  contest  was  revived.  But  the  Spice 
islands  having  been  wrested  from  the  Portuguese  by  the  Dutch,  the  con 
troversy  between  the  Portuguese  and  the  Spaniards  was  now  reduced  to 
the  limits  of  Brazil.  The  parties  accordingly  again  changed  sides  ;  the 
Portuguese  geographers,  at  the  conferences  held  at  Puente  de  Caya  in 
1682,  maintained  that  the  370  leagues  must  be  counted  from  the  most 
western  point  of  St  Antonio,  while  the  Spaniards  insisted  on  the  centre 
of  the  isle  St  Nicholas.  Two  or  three  commissions,  at  great  expense, 
were  sent  out,  in  the  course  of  the  last  century,  to  settle  the  possession 
of  the  uninhabited  swamps  on  the  banks  of  the  Tuamini ; — the  region 
which  was  constituted  debateable  ground  by  the  uncertainty  of  the  point, 
through  which  the  meridian  line  should  be  run. — (Humboldt  Relation 
Historique^Tom.  II.  p.  442.) 

In  the  first  volume  of  M.  Martens'  supplement  to  the  Recue.il  des  Traites, 
p.  372,  the  treaty  of  Tordesillas  is  contained,  and  in  no  previous  col 
lection  of  treaties.  The  limit  of  the  Oyapok,  Oyapoco,  or  lapoc,  was 
finally  settled  by  the  107th  Article  of  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  Vienna  ; 
and  by  a  separate  convention  therein  provided  for,  between  Portugal  and 
France. 

Note  P.     Page  45. 

A  more  than  ordinary  identity  of  interest  and  character  was  effected 
between  Portugal  and  Brazil ;  and  this  vast  region  was  even  called  by  the 
name  of  Portugal.  "  On  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Negro,"  says  Humboldt, 
in  the  chapter  cited  in  the  last  note,  "  the  neighboring  country  beyond! 
the  Amazon  is  called,  in  the  language  of  the  Spanish  Missions,  neither 
Brazil  nor  the  Capitania  general  of  Grand  Para,  but  Portugal.  The  cop 
per  colored  Indians  and  the  Mulattos,  which  I  have  seen  ascending  from 
Barcelos  to  the  Spanish  fort  San  Carlos,  are  Portuguese.  This  denomina 
tion  prevails  among  the  people  even  to  the  coasts  of  Cumana.  A  favor 
ite  anecdote  relates,  how  the  imagination  of  one  of  the  commandants  in 
the  expedition  of  Solano  to  settle  the  limits,  in  1754,  was  struck,  by  hear 
ing  the  inhabitants  of  these  regions  called  Portuguese.  The  old  soldier, 
as  ignorant  as  brave,  was  provoked  at  having  been  sent  to  the  banks  of 
the  Orenoque  by  sea  :  "  If"  said  he,  "  as  I  hear,  this  vast  province  of  Spa 
nish  Guyana  reaches  all  the  way  to  Portugal,  (a  los  Portugeses,)  why  did 
the  king  make  us  sail  from  Cadiz.  I  should  have  preferred  travelling  a 
little  farther  by  land." — "  These  expressions  of  nfiire  ignorance,"  adds 
Humboldt,  "  remind  one  of  a  strange  opinion  of  Lorenzana  the  distin 
guished  archbishop  of  Mexico.  This  prelate,  a  person  of  great  histori 
cal  research,  observes  in  his  edition  of  the  letters  of  Cortes,  published  so 
late  as  1770,  that  the  possessions  of  the  king  of  Spain  in  New  California 
and  New  Mexico,  border  by  land  on  Siberia  /" 

These  anecdotes  alone  may  serve  as  an  index  to  the  colonial  systems 
of  Spain  and  Portugal,  whose  archbishops  and  commissioners  for  set 
tling  limits  supposed,  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  that  Brazil  was 
bounded  by  Portugal  and  New  Mexico  by  Siberia. 

Note  Q.     Page  52. 

The  sentiment  in  the  text  is  very  strongly  illustrated  by  the  statements 
contained  in  Pringle's  account  of  the  present  state  of  "  the  English  set 
tlers  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope."  From  that  work,  it  appears  that 
ninety  thousand  persons  besieged  Earl  Bathurst's  office,  with  applications 
to  embark  in  the  government  expedition,  to  found  the  colony  in  question,  y 
The  calamitous  consequences  are  detailed  in  the  work  alluded  to. 


73 

Note  R.     Page  58. 

The  constitution  of  the  Mexican  confederacy  was  adopted  by  the  gen 
eral  constituent  Congress  Oct.  4.  1824,  and  may  be  found  translated  in 
the  National  Journal  for  Dec.  10  and  llth. 

The  Mexican  confederacy  consists  of  the  following  states  and  territo 
ries  ;  the  states  of  Chiapas,  Chihuahua,  Coahuila  y  Tejas,  Durango,  Gua 
najuato,  Mexico,  Michoacan,  Nuevo  Leon,  Oajaca,  Pucbla  de  los  Ange 
les,  Queretaro,  San  Luis  Potosi,  Sonara  y  Sinaloa,  Tabasco,  Tamaulipas(?) 
Vera  Cruz,  lalisco,  Yucatan,  and  Zacatecas  ;  the  territories  of  upper  and 
lower  California,  Colima,  and  Santa  Fe  of  >  ew  Mexico.  The  character 
of  Tlaxcala  is  to  be  fixed  by  a  constitutional  law. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  division  into  states  and  territories  does  not 
precisely  correspond  with  the  old  division  into  intendencies. 

Note  S.     Page  59. 

"  The  following  are  a  few  of  the  subjects  of  the  political  essays  of  the 
Censor  (a  periodical  paper  published  at  Buenos  Ayres)  in  1817:  an  ex 
planation  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  highly  praised — 
The  Lancastrian  System  of  Education— on  the  causes  of  the  prosperity 
of  the  United  States — Milton's  essay  on  the  liberty  of  the  press — A  re 
view  of  the  work  of  the  late  President  Adams,  on  the  American  Consti 
tution,  and  a  recommendation  of  checks  and  balances,  continued  through 
several  numbers  and  abounding  with  much  useful  information  for  the 
people — brief  notice  of  the  life  of  James  Monroe,  president  of  the  Uni 
ted  States — examination  of  the  federative  system — on  the  trial  by  Jury — 
on  popular  elections — on  the  effect  of  enlightened  productions  on  the 
condition  of  mankind — an  analysis  of  the  several  state  constitutions  of 
the  Union,  &c. 

"  There  are  in  circulation,  Spanish  translations  of  many  of  our  best 
revolutionary  writings.  The  most  common  are  two  miscellaneous  vol 
umes,  one,  containing  Paine's  common  sense  and  rights  of  man,  and  de 
claration  of  Independence,  several  of  our  constitutions,  and  General 
Washington's  farewell  address.  The  other  is  an  abridged  history  of  the 
United  States  down  to  the  year  1810,  with  a  good  explanation  of  the 
nature  of  our  political  institutions,  accompanied  with  a  translation  of  Mr 
Jefferson's  inaugural  speech,  and  other  state  papers.  I  believe  these 
have  been  read  by  nearly  all  who  can  read,  and  have  produced  a  most 
extravagant  admiration  of  the  United  States,  at  the  same  time,  accom 
panied  with  something  like  despair." — Breckenridge's  South  America, 
Vol.  II.  pp.  213,  214. 


AN 


ORATION 


APRIL  THE  NINETEENTH, 


1825. 


BY  EDWARD  EVERETT. 


BOSTON: 

PUBLISHED  BY  CUMMINGS,  HILLIARD,  AND  COMPANY. 
1825. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT  5 
_^_  «*«f€Mfeq|te. 

••  A»My  ••AyMr«rdbfcl«fc|ji«ii«uL  0ttJjTt»itol  Slates rf  Aatr- 

.-•.;'•. Y  •;:>,":- 

Md 

A^riJtW  MKM^  18S.    By 


;,-/  -. 


Gmami,  April  19,  1825. 
Hon-  EDWARD  EVERETT, 

Dear  Sir, 

The  Committee  of  Arrangements  have  uMiimlgJ  me 
to  express  their  thanks  to  yoo.  for  the  rery  interesting  ad 
dress  delivered  by  yoa  this  day.  and  to  request  you  to  fa- 
TOF  them  with  a  copy  for  the  press. 

Tour  obedient  servant, 
(Signed)  N.  BROOKS, }  ?«•».. 


ORATION. 


FELLOW  CITIZENS, 
V 
THE   voice  of   patriotic  and   filial    duty   has 

called  us  together,  to  celebrate  the  fiftieth  anniver 
sary  of  an  ever  memorable  day.  The  subject, 
which  this  occasion  presents  to  our  consideration, 
almost  exceeds  the  grasp  of  the  human  mind. 
The  appearance  of  a  new  state  in  the  great  family 
of  nations  is  one  of  the  most  important  topics  of 
reflection,  that  can  ever  be  addressed  to  us.  In 
the  case  of  America,  the  interest,  the  magnitude, 
and  the  difficulty  of  this  subject  are  immeasurably 
increased.  Our  progress  has  been  so  rapid,  the 
interval  has  been  so  short  between  the  first  planta 
tions  in  the  wilderness  and  the  full  development 
of  our  political  institutions  ;  there  has  been  such  a 
visible  agency  of  single  characters  in  affecting  the 
1 


2 

condition  of  the  country,  such  an  almost  instanta 
neous  expansion  of  single  events  into  consequences 
of  incalculable  importance,  that  we  find  ourselves 
deserted  by  almost  all  the  principles  and  precedents, 
drawn  from  the  analogy  of  other  states.  Men 
have  here  seen,  felt,  and  acted  themselves,  what 
in  most  other  countries  has  been  the  growth  of 
centuries. 

Take  your  station  for  instance  on  Connecticut 
river.  Every  thing  about  you,  whatsoever  you 
behold  or  approach,  bears  witness,  that  you  are  a 
citizen  of  a  powerful  and  prosperous  state.  It  is 
just  seventy  years,  since  the  towns,  which  you  now 
contemplate  with  admiration  as  the  abodes  of  a 
numerous,  increasing,  refined,  enterprising  popula 
tion,  safe  in  the  enjoyment  of  life's  best  bles 
sings,  were  wasted  and  burned  by  the  savages 
of  the  wilderness  ;  and  their  inhabitants  by  hun 
dreds, — the  old  and  the  young,  the  minister  of 
the  gospel,  and  the  mother  with  her  new  born 
babe, — were  wakened  at  midnight  by  the  warhoop, 
dragged  from  their  beds,  and  marched  with  bleeding 
feet  across  the  snow-clad  mountains, — to  be  sold  as 
slaves  into  the  cornfields  and  kitchens  of  the 
French  in  Canada.  Go  back  eighty  years  farther  ; 
and  the  same  barbarous  foe  is  on  the  skirts  of  your 


oldest  settlements,  at  your  own  doors.  As  late  as 
1676,  ten  or  twelve  citizens  of  Concord  were 
slain  or  carried  into  captivity,  who  had  gone  to 
meet  the  savage  hordes  in  their  attack  on  Sudbury, 
in  which  the  brave  Captain  Wadsvvorth  and  his 
companions  fell. 

These  contrasts  regard  the  political  strength  of 
our  country  ;  the  growth  in  national  resources 
presents  a  case  of  increase  still  more  astonishing, 
though  less  adapted  to  move  the  feelings.  By 
the  last  valuation,  the  aggregate  property  of  Mas 
sachusetts  is  estimated  at  something  less  than 

a 

three  hundred  millions.  By  the  valuation  made 
in  1780,  the  property  of  Massachusetts  and  Maine 
was  estimated  at  eleven  millions. 

This  unexampled  rapidity  of  our  national 
growth,  while  it  gives  to  our  history  more  than 
the  interest  of  romance,  leaves  us  often  in  doubt, 
what  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  cooperation  of  a 
train  of  incidents  and  characters,  following  in  long 
succession  upon  each  other ;  and  what  is  to  be 
referred  to  the  vast  influence  of  single  important 
events.  On  the  one  hand,  we  think  we  trace  a 
series  of  causes  and  effects,  running  back  into  the 
history  of  the  dark  ages  in  Europe,  and  visibly 
exerting  an  influence  on  the  American  colonies ; 


4 

and  on  the  other,  we  witness  a  rapidity,  an  ener 
gy,  a  precision  in  the  movements  of  the  nation 
toward  improvement  and  power,  which  seem  to 
characterize  the  agency  of  individual  events  and 
men.  In  the  first  view,  we  feel  constrained  to 
surrender  up  the  fortunes  of  our  country,  as  a  por 
tion  of  the  chain  of  events,  which  lengthens 
onward,  by  blind  fatality,  from  the  creation  of  the 
world,  and  brings  about,  in  each  successive  age, 
the  same  routine  of  rise,  progress,  and  decay. 
In  the  other  view,  we  behold  the  action  of  a  new 
and  original  political  life,  a  fresh  and  hopeful 
national  existence  ;  nourished,  strengthened,  and 
matured  under  the  operation  of  peculiar  causes 
of  unexampled  energy. 

That  great,  that  astonishing  incident  in  human 
affairs,  the  Revolution  of  America,  as  seen  on  the 
day  of  its  portentous,  or  rather  let  me  say,  of  its 
auspicious  commencement,  is  the  theme  of  our 
present  consideration.  To  what  shall  we  direct 
our  thoughts  ?  On  the  one  hand,  we  behold  a 
connexion  of  events  ;  the  time  and  circumstances 
of  the  original  discovery  ;  the  system  of  coloniza 
tion  ;  the  settlements  of  the  pilgrims  ;  their  con 
dition,  temper,  and  institutions ;  their  singular 
political  relation  with  the  mother  country  ;  their 


long  and  doubtful  struggle  with  the  savage  tribes  ; 
their  collisions  with  the  royal  governors  ;  their  co 
operation  in  the  British  wars  ;  with  all  the  influ 
ences  of  their  geographical  and  physical  condition  ; 
uniting  to  constitute  what  I  may  call  the  political 
national  education  of  America,  by  forming  the 
public  mind,  nerving  the  arm,  and  firing  the  heart 
for  the  events  of  that  day,  which  we  now  com 
memorate.  When  we  take  this  survey,  we  feel 
that  we  ought  to  divide  the  honors  of  the  Revo 
lution  with  the  great  men  of  the  colony  in  every 
generation  ;  with  the  Winslows  and  the  Pepperells, 
the  Cookes  and  the  Mathers,  the  Winthrops  and 
the  Bradfords,  and  all  who  labored  and  acted  in 
the  cabinet,  the  desk,  or  the  field,  for  the  one 
great  cause.  On  the  other  hand,  when  we  dwell 
upon  the  day  itself,  every  thing  else  seems  lost  in 
the  comparison.  Had  our  forefathers  failed,  on 
that  day  of  trial,  which  we  now  celebrate  ;  had 
their  votes  and  their  resolves  (as  was  taunt 
ingly  predicted  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic) 
ended  in  the  breath,  in  which  they  began  ;  had  the 
rebels  laid  down  their  arms,  as  they  were  command 
ed  ;  and  the  military  stores,  which  had  been  fru 
gally  treasured  up  for  this  crisis,  been,  without  re 
sistance,  destroyed;— then  the  Revolution  had  been 


6 

at  an  end,  or  rather  never  had  been  begun ;  the  heads 
of  Hancock  and  Adams  and  their  brave  colleagues 
would  have  been  exposed  in  ghastly  triumph  on 
Temple-bar ;  a  military  despotism  would  have  been 
firmly  fixed  in  the  colonies  ;  the  patriots  of  Mas 
sachusetts  would  have  been  doubly  despised,  the 
scorn  of  their  enemies,  the  scorn  of  their  deluded 
countrymen  ;  the  cry  of  liberty,  which  they  had 
raised  from  the  shore  to  the  mountains,  would 
have  been  turned  back  in  a  cry  of  disdain  ;  and  the 
heart  of  this  great  people,  then  beating  and  almost 
bursting  for  freedom,  would  have  been  struck 
cold  and  dead,  and,  for  aught  we  can  now  reason, 
forever. 

There  are  those,  who  object  to  such  a  celebra 
tion  as  this,  as  tending  to  keep  up  or  to  awaken  a 
hostile  sentiment  toward  England.  But  I  do  not 
feel  the  force  of  this  scruple.  ^  In  the  first  place, 
it  was  not  England,  but  the  English  ministerial 
party  of  the  day,  and  a  small  circle  in  that  party, 
which  projected  the  measures  that  resulted  in  our 
Revolution.  The  rights  of  America  found  steady 
and  powerful  asserters  in  England.  Lord  Chat 
ham  declared  to  the  House  of  Peers  that  he  was 
glad  America  had  resisted,  and  alluding  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  a  son  in  the  British  army,  he 


added,  "  that  none  of  his  blood  should  serve  in 
this  detested  cause."  Nay,  even  the  ministers 
that  imposed  the  stamp  duty,  the  measure  which 
hastened  the  spirit  of  America  to  a  crisis,  which 
it  might  not  have  reached  in  a  century,  Lord 
Mansfield,  the  Duke  of  Grafton,  the  Earl  of  Shel- 
burne,  Lord  Camden,  rose,  one  after  another,  and 
asserted  in  the  House  of  Lords,  that  they  had  no 
share  in  the  measures  which  were  proposed  by  the 
very  cabinet,  of  which  they  were  leading  mem 
bers.  ^ 

But  I  must  go  further.  Did  faithful  history 
compel  us  to  cast  on  all  England  united  the 
reproach  of  those  measures,  which  drove  our 
fathers  to  arms  ;  and  were  it,  in  consequence,  the 
unavoidable  effect  of  these  celebrations  to  revive 
the  feelings  of  revolutionary  times  in  the  bosoms 
of  the  aged  ;  to  kindle  those  feelings  anew,  in  the 
susceptible  hearts  of  the  young  ;  it  would  still  be 
our  duty,  on  every  becoming  occasion,  in  the 
strongest  colors,  and  in  the  boldest  lines  we  can 
command,  to  retrace  the  picture  of  the  times  that 
tried  men's  souls.  We  owe  it  to  our  fathers,  we 
owe  it  to  our  children.  A  pacific  and  friendly 
feeling  towards  England  is  the  duty  of  this  nation  ; 
but  it  is  not  our  only  duty,  it  is  not  our  first  duty. 


8 

America  owes  an  earlier  and  a  higher  duty  to  the 
great  and  good  men,  who  caused  her  to  be  a 
nation  ;  who,  at  an  expense  of  treasure,  a  con 
tempt  of  peril,  a  prodigality  of  blood — the  purest 
and  noblest  that  ever  flowed, — of  which  we  can 
now  hardly  conceive,  vindicated  to  this  continent 
a  place  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  I  can 
not  consent,  out  of  tenderness  to  the  memory  of 
the  Gages,  the  Hutchinsons,  the  Grenvilles  and 
Norths,  the  Dartmouths  and  Hillsboroughs,  to 
cast  a  veil  over  the  labors  and  the  sacrifices  of  the 
Quincys,  the  Adamses,  the  Hancocks,  and  the 
Warrens.  I  am  not  willing  to  give  up  to  the 
ploughshare  the  soil  wet  with  our  fathers'  blood  ; 
no  !  not  even  to  plant  the  olive  of  peace  in  the 
furrow. 

There  is  not  a  people  on  earth  so  abject,  as  to 
think  that  national  courtesy  requires  them  to  hush 
up  the  tale  of  the  glorious  exploits  of  their  fathers 
and  countrymen.  France  is  at  peace  with  Austria 
and  Prussia ;  but  she  does  not  demolish  her  beau 
tiful  bridges,  baptized  with  the  names  of  the  bat 
tle  fields,  where  Napoleon  annihilated  their  armies; 
nor  tear  down  the  columns,  moulten  out  of  the 
accumulated  heaps  of  their  captive  artillery. 
England  is  at  peace  with  France  and  Spain,  but 


does  she  suppress  the  names  of  Trafalgar  and  the 
Nile  ;  does  she  overthrow  the  towers  of  Blenheim 
castle,  eternal  monuments  of  the  disasters  of 
France  ;  does  she  tear  down  from  the  rafters  of 
her  chapels,  where  they  have  for  ages  waved 
in  triumph,  consecrated  to  the  God  of  battles,  the 
banners  of  Cressy  and  Agincourt  ?— jNo  ;  she  is 
wiser  ;  wiser,  did  I  say  ?  she  is  truer,  juster  to  the 
memory  of  her  fathers  and  the  spirit  of  her  child 
ren.  The  national  character,  in  some  of  its  most 
important  elements,  must  be  formed,  elevated, 
and  strengthened  from  the  materials  which  history 
presents.  The  great  objection  which  has  been 
urged,  and  urged  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  and 
at  the  mouth  of  the  cannon,  by  the  partisans  of 
arbitrary  power  in  Europe,  against  revolutionary 
and  popular  governments,  is,  that  they  want  a 
historical  basis,  which  alone,  they  say,  can  im 
part  stability  and  legality  to  public  institutions. 
But  certainly  the  historical  basis  is  of  much  greater 
moment  to  the  spirit,  than  to  the  institutions  of  a 
people  ;  and  for  the  reason,  that  the  spirit  itself  of 
a  nation  is  far  more  important  than  its  institutions 
at  any  moment.  Let  the  spirit  be  sound  and  true, 
and  it  will  sooner  or  later  find  or  make  a  remedy 
for  defective  institutions.  But  though  the  insti- 


JO 

tutions  should  surpass,  in  theoretic  beauty,  the 
fabled  perfection  of  Utopia  or  Atlantis,  without  a 
free  spirit,  the  people  will  be  slaves  ;  they  will  be 
slaves  of  the  most  despicable  kind, — pretended 
freemen. 

And  how  is  the  spirit  of  a  people  to  be  formed 
and  animated  and  cheered,  but  out  of  the  store 
house  of  its  historic  recollections  ?  Are  we  to  be 
eternally  ringing  the  changes  upon  Marathon  and 
Thermopylae  ;  and  going  back  to  read  in  obscure 
texts  of  Greek  and  Latin  of  the  great  examplars 
of  patriotic  virtue  ?  I  thank  God,  that  we  can 
find  them  nearer  home,  in  our  own  country,  on 
our  own  soil  ; — that  strains  of  the  noblest  sen 
timent,  that  ever  swelled  in  the  breast  of  man,  are 
breathing  to  us  out  of  every  page  of  our  country's 
history,  in  the  native  eloquence  of  our  mother 
tongue  ; — that  the  colonial  and  the  provincial  coun 
cils  of  America,  exhibit  to  us  models  of  the  spirit 
and  character,  which  gave  Greece  and  Rome  their 
name  and  their  praise  among  the  nations.  Here 
we  ought  to  go  for  our  instruction  ; — the  lesson 
is  plain,  it  is  clear,  it  is  applicable.  When 
we  go  to  ancient  history,  we  are  bewildered 
with  the  difference  of  manners  and  institutions. 


11 

We  are  willing  to  pay  our  tribute  of  applause 
to  the  memory  of  Leonidas,  who  fell  nobly  for  his 
country,  in  the  face  of  the  foe.  But  when  we 
trace  him  to  his  home,  we  are  confounded  at  the 
reflection,  that  the  same  Spartan  heroism  to 
which  he  sacrificed  himself  at  Thermopylae,  would 
have  led  him  to  tear  his  only  child,  if  it  happened 
to  be  a  sickly  babe — the  very  object  for  which  all 
that  is  kind  and  good  in  man  rises  up  to  plead — 
from  the  bosom  of  its  mother,  and  carry  it  out  to 
be  eaten  by  the  wolves  of  Taygetus.  We  feel  a 
glow  of  admiration  at  the  heroism  displayed  at 
Marathon,  by  the  ten  thousand  champions  of  in 
vaded  Greece  ;  but  we  cannot  forget  that  the  tenth 
part  of  the  number  were  slaves,  unchained  from 
the  workshops  and  door-posts  of  their  masters,  to 
go  and  fight  the  battles  of  freedom.  I  do  not 
mean  that  these  examples  are  to  destroy  the  inter 
est  with  which  we  read  the  history  of  ancient 
times  ;  they  possibly  increase  that  interest,  by  the 
singular  contrast  they  exhibit.  But  they  do  warn 
us,  if  we  need  the  warning,  to  seek  our  great 
practical  lessons  of  patriotism  at  home ;  out  of 
the  exploits  and  sacrifices,  of  which  our  own  coun 
try  is  the  theatre  ;  out  of  the  characters  of  our 
own  fathers.  Them  we  know,  the  high-souled, 


12 

natural,  unaffected,  the  citizen  heroes.  We 
know  what  happy  firesides  they  left  for  the 
cheerless  camp.  We  know  with  what  pacific 
habits  they  dared  the  perils  of  the  field.  There  is 
no  mystery,  no  romance,  no  madness,  under  the 
name  of  chivalry,  about  them.  It  is  all  resolute, 
manly  resistance,  for  conscience'  and  liberty's  sake, 
not  merely  of  an  overwhelming  power,  but  of  all 
the  force  of  long-rooted  habits,  and  native  love  of 
order  and  peace. 

Above  all,  their  blood  calls  to  us  from  the  soil 
which  we  tread  ;  it  beats  in  our  veins  ;  it  cries  to 
us,  not  merely  in  the  thrilling  words  of  one  of  the 
first  victims  in  this  cause, — "  My  sons,  scorn  to  be 
slaves  ; " — but  it  cries  with  a  still  more  moving 
eloquence — "  My  sons,  forget  not  your  fathers." 
Fast,  oh,  too  fast,  with  all  our  efforts  to  pre 
vent  it,  their  precious  memories  are  dying  away. 
Notwithstanding  our  numerous  written  memorials, 
much  of  what  is  known  of  those  eventful  times 
dwells  but  in  the  recollection  of  a  few  revered 
survivors,  and  with  them  is  rapidly  perishing, 
unrecorded  and  irretrievable.  /*  How  many  pru 
dent  counsels,  conceived  in  perplexed  times  ;  how 
many  heart-stirring  words,  uttered  when  liberty 
was  treason  ;  how  many  brave  and  heroic  deeds. 


13 

performed  when  the  halter,  not  the  laurel,  was 
the  promised  meed  of  patriotic  daring, — are  already 
lost  and  forgotten  in  the  graves  of  their  authors. 
How  little  do  we, — although  we  have  been  permit 
ted  to  hold  converse  with  the  venerable  remnants 
of  that  day, — how  little  do  we  know  of  their  dark 
and  anxious  hours ;  of  their  secret  meditations ; 
of  the  hurried  and  perilous  events  of  the  moment 
ous  struggle.  And  while  they  are  dropping  round 
us  like  the  leaves  of  autumn,  while  scarce  a 
week  passes  that  does  not  call  away  some  member 
of  the  veteran  ranks,  already  so  sadly  thinned, 
shall  we  make  no  effort  to  hand  down  the  tradi 
tions  of  their  day  to  our  children  ;  to  pass  the 
torch  of  liberty,  which  we  received  in  all  the 
splendour  of  its  first  enkindling,  bright  and  flam 
ing  to  those  who  stand  next  us  in  the  line ;  so 
that  when  we  shall  come  to  be  gathered  to  the 
dust  where  our  fathers  are  laid,  we  may  say  to 
our  sons  and  our  grandsons,  "  If  we  did  not  amass, 
we  have  not  squandered  your  inheritance  of  glory  ?  " 
Let  us  then  faithfully  go  back  to  those  all-im 
portant  days.  Let  us  commemorate  the  events, 
with  which  the  momentous  revolutionary  crisis 
was  brought  on  ;  let  us  gather  up  the  traditions 
which  still  exist ;  let  us  show  the  world,  that  if 


14 

we  are  not  called  to  follow  the  example  of  our 
fathers,  we  are  at  least  not  insensible  to  the  worth 
of  their  characters  ;  not  indifferent  to  the  sacrifices 
and  trials,  by  which  they  purchased  our  prosper- 
itj- 

Time  would  fail  us  to  recount  the  measures  by 
which  the  way  was  prepared  for  the  revolution  ; — 
the  stamp  act ;  its  repeal,  with  the  declaration  of 
the  right  to  tax  America ;  the  landing  of  troops 
in  Boston,  beneath  the  batteries  of  fourteen  vessels 
of  war,  lying  broadside  to  the  town,  with  springs 
on  their  cables,  their  guns  loaded,  and  matches 
smoking ;  the  repeated  insults,  and  finally  the 
massacre  of  the  fifth  of  March,  resulting  from  this 
military  occupation  ;  and  the  Boston  Port-Bill, 
by  which  the  final  catastrophe  was  hurried  on, 
Nor  can  we  dwell  upon  the  appointment  at  Salem, 
on  the  seventeenth  of  June  1774,  of  the  delegates 
to  the  continental  congress  ;  of  the  formation  at 
Salem,  in  the  following  October,  of  the  provincial 
congress  ;  of  the  decided  measures,  which  were 
taken  by  that  noble  assembly,  at  Concord  and  at 
Cambridge  ;  of  the  preparations  they  made  against 
the  worst,  by  organizing  the  militia,  providing 
stores,  and  appointing  commanders.  All  this  was 
done  by  the  close  of  the  year  1774. 


15 

At  length  the  memorable  year  of  1775  arrived. 
The  plunder  of  the  provincial  stores  at  Medford, 
and  the  attempt  to  seize  the  cannon  at  Salem,  had 
produced  a  highly  irritated  state  of  the  public 
mind.  The  friends  of  our  rights  in  England  made 
a  vigorous  effort,  in  the  month  of  March,  to  avert 
the  tremendous  crisis  that  impended.  On  the 
twenty-second  of  that  month,  Mr  Burke  spoke  the 
last  word  of  conciliation  and  peace.  He  spoke  it 
in  a  tone  and  with  a  power  befitting  the  occasion  and 
the  man  ; — he  spoke  it  to  the  northwest  wind. 
Eight  days  after,  at  that  season  of  the  year  when 
the  prudent  New  England  husbandman  repairs  the 
inclosures  of  his  field,  for  the  protection  of  the 
fruits  of  nature's  bounty  which  ere  long  will  cov 
er  them,  General  Gage  sent  out  a  party  of  eleven 
hundred  men  to  overthrow  the  stone  walls  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Boston,  by  way  of  opening 
and  levelling  the  arena  for  the  bloody  contest  he 
designed  to  bring  on.  With  the  same  view,  m 
the  months  of  February  and  March,  his  officers 
were  sent  in  disguise  to  traverse  the  country,  to 
make  military  surveys  and  sketches  of  its  roads 
and  passes,  to  obtain  accounts  of  the  stores  at 
Concord  and  Worcester,  and  to  communicate  with 
the  small  number  of  disaffected  Americans.  These 


w 


16 

disguised  officers  were  here  at  Concord,  on  the 
twentieth  of  March  ;  and  received  treacherous  or 
unsuspecting  information  of  the  places,  where  the 
provincial  stores  were  concealed.  I  mention  this 
only  to  show,  that  our  fathers,  in  their  arduous 
contest,  had  every  thing  to  contend  with  ;  secret  as 
well  as  open  foes  ;  treachery  in  the  cabinet,  as 
well  as  power  in  the  field.  But  I  need  not  add, 
that  they  possessed  not  only  the  courage  and  the 
resolution,  but  the  vigilance  and  care,  demanded  for 
the  crisis.  In  November  1774,  a  society  had 
been  formed  in  Boston,  principally  of  the  mechan 
ics  of  that  town, — a  class  of  men  to  whom  the 
revolutionary  cause  was  as  deeply  indebted,  as  to 
any  other  in  America, — for  the  express  purpose  of 
closely  watching  the  movements  of  the  open  and 
secret  foes  of  the  country.  In  the  long  and  dreary 
nights  of  a  New  England  winter,  they  patrolled 
the  streets  ;  and  not  a  movement,  which  concerned 
the  cause,  escaped  their  vigilance.  Not  a  measure 
of  the  royal  governor,  but  was  in  their  possession, 
in  a  few  hours  after  it  was  communicated  to  his 
confidential  officers.  Nor  was  it  manly  patriotism 
alone,  whose  spirit  was  thus  aroused  in  the  cause. 
The  daughters  of  America  were  inspired  with  the 
same  noble  temper,  that  animated  their  fathers. 


17 

their  husbands,  and  their  brethren.  The  historian 
tells  us,  that  the  first  intimation  communicated  to  the 
patriots  of  the  impending  commencement  of  hos 
tilities,  caine  from  a  daughter  of  liberty,  unequally 
yoked  with  an  enemy  of  her  country's  rights. 

With  all  these  warnings,  and  all  the  vigilance 
with  which  the  royal  troops  were  watched,  none 
supposed  the  fatal  moment  was  hurrying  so  rapid 
ly  on.  On  Saturday,  April  fifteenth,  the  Provin 
cial  Congress  adjourned  their  session  in  this  place, 
to  meet  on  the  tenth  of  May.  On  the  very  same 
day,  Saturday  the  fifteenth  of  April,  the  companies 
of  grenadiers  and  light  infantry  in  Boston,  the 
flower  not  merely  of  the  royal  garrison,  but  of  the 
British  army,  were  taken  off  their  regular  duty, 
under  the  pretence  of  learning  a  new  military 
exercise.  At  the  midnight  following,  the  boats  of 
the  transport  ships,  which  had  been  previously 
repaired,  were  launched,  and  moored  for  safety 
under  the  sterns  of  the  vessels  of  war.  Not  one 
of  these  movements, — least  of  all,  that  which  took 
place  beneath  the  shades  of  midnight, — was  un 
observed  by  the  vigilant  sons  of  liberty.  The 
next  morning,  Colonel  Paul  Revere,  a  very  active 
member  of  the  patriotic  society  just  mentioned, 
was  despatched  by  Dr  Joseph  Warren  to  John 
3 


18 

Hancock  and  Samuel  Adams,  then  at  Lexington, 
whose  seizure  was  threatened  by  th^  royal  gover 
nor.  So  early  did  these  distinguished  patriots  re 
ceive  the  intelligence,  that  preparations  for  an 
important  movement  were  on  foot.  Justly  con 
sidering,  however,  that  some  object  besides  the 
seizure  of  two  individuals  was  probably  designed, 
in  the  movement  of  so  large  a  force,  they  counsel 
led  the  Committee  of  Safety  to  order  the  distribu 
tion  into  the  neighbouring  towns,  of  the  stores 
collected  at  Concord.  Colonel  Revere,  on  his 
return  from  this  excursion  on  the  sixteenth 
of  April,  in  order  to  guard  against  any  ac 
cident,  which  might  make  it  impossible  at  the 
last  moment  to  give  information  from  Boston  of 
the  departure  of  the  troops,  concerted  with  his 
friends  in  Charlestown,  that  whenever  the  British 
forces  should  embark  in  their  boats  to  cross  into 
the  country,  two  lanterns  should  be  shown  in 
North  Church  steeple,  and  one,  should  they  march 
out  by  Roxbury. 

Thus  was  the  meditated  blow  prepared  for  be 
fore  it  was  struck  ;  and  we  almost  smile  at  the 
tardy  prudence  of  the  British  commander,  who, 
on  Tuesday  the  eighteenth  of  April,  despatched  ten 
sergeants,  who  were  to  dine  at  Cambridge,  and  at 


19 

nightfall  scatter  themselves  on  the  roads  from 
Boston  to  Concord,  to  prevent  notice  of  the  pro 
jected  expedition  from  reaching  the  country. 

At  length  the  momentous  hour  arrives,  as 
big  with  consequences  to  man,  as  any  that  ever 
struck  in  his  history.  The  darkness  of  night  is 
still  to  shroud  the  rash  and  fatal  measures,  with 
which  the  liberty  of  America  is  hastened  on. 
The  highest  officers  in  the  British  army  are  as 
yet  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  meditated  blow. 
At  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  eighteenth, 
Lord  Percy  is  sent  for  by  the  governor  to  receive 
the  information  of  the  design.  On  his  way  back 
to  his  lodgings,  he  finds  the  very  movements, 
which  had  been  just  communicated  to  him  in  con 
fidence  by  the  commander  in  chief,  a  subject  of 
conversation  in  a  group  of  patriotic  citizens  in  the 
street.  He  hastens  back  to  General  Gage  and 
tells  him  he  is  betrayed  ;  and  orders  are  instantly 
given  to  permit  no  American  to  leave  the  town. 
But  the  order  is  five  minutes  too  late.  Dr  War 
ren,  the  President  of  the  Committee  of  Safety, 
though  he  had  returned  at  nightfall  from  the  meet 
ing  at  West  Cambridge,  was  already  in  possession 
of  the  whole  design  ;  and  instantly  despatched 
two  messengers  to  Lexington,  Mr  William  Dawes, 


20 

who  went  out  by  Roxbury,  and  Colonel  Paul 
Revere,  who  crossed  to  Charlestown.  The  Col 
onel  received  this  summons,  at  ten  o'clock  on 
Tuesday  night  ;  the  lanterns  were  immediately 
lighted  up  in  North  Church  steeple  ;  and  in  this 
way,  before  a  man  of  the  soldiery  was  embarked 
in  the  boats,  the  news  of  their  coming  was  trav 
elling  with  the  rapidity  of  light,  through  the 
country.46 

Having  accomplished  this  precautionary  meas 
ure,  Colonel  Revere  repaired  to  the  north  part  of 
the  town,  where  he  constantly  kept  a  boat  in  read 
iness,  in  which  he  was  nowr  rowed  by  two  friends 
across  the  river,  a  little  to  the  eastward  of  the 
spot  where  the  Somerset  rnan-of-war  was  moored, 
between  Boston  and  Charlestown.  It  was  then 
young  flood,  the  ship  was  swinging  round  upon 
,5the  tide,  and  the  moon  was  just  rising  upon 
this  midnight  scene  of  solemn  anticipation. 
Colonel  Revere  was  safely  landed  in  Charles- 
town,  where  his  signals  had  already  been  ob 
served.  He  procured  a  horse  from  Deacon  Lar- 
kin  for  the  further  pursuit  of  his  errand.  That 
he  would  not  be  permitted  to  accomplish  it,  with 
out  risk  of  interruption,  was  evident  from  the  in- 
*  See  note  A. 


v: 


UNIVERSITY 


21 

formation  which  he  received  from  Mr  Richard 
Devens,  a  member  of  the  Committee  of  Safety, 
that  on  his  way  from  West  Cambridge,  where  the 
committee  sat,  he  had  encountered  several  British 
officers,  well  armed  and  mounted,  going  up  the  road. 
At  eleven  o'clock,  Colonel  Revere  started  upon 
his  eventful  errand.  After  passing  Charlestown 
neck,  he  saw  two  men  on  horseback  under  a  tree. 
On  approaching  them  he  perceived  them  by  the 
light  of  the  moon  to  be  British  officers.  One  of 
them  immediately  tried  to  intercept,  and  the  other 
to  seize  him.  The  Colonel  instantly  turned  back 
toward  Charlestown,  and  then  struck  into  the 
Medford  road.  The  officer  in  pursuit  of  him, 
endeavouring  to  cut  him  off,  plunged  into  a  clay- 
pond,  in  the  corner  between  the  two  roads,  and 
the  Colonel  escaped.  He  accordingly  pursued 
his  way  to  Medford,  awoke  the  captain  of  the 
minute  men  there,  and  giving  the  alarm  at  every 
house  on  the  road,  passed  on  through  West  Cam 
bridge  to  Lexington.  There  he  delivered  his 
message  to  Messrs  Hancock  and  Adams,*  and 
there  also  he  was  shortly  after  joined  by  Mr 
William  Dawes,  the  messenger  who  had  gone  out 
by  Roxbury. 

*  See  note  B. 


22 

After  staying  a  short  time  at  Lexington,  Messrs 
Revere  and  D  iwes,  at  about  one  o'clock  of  the 
morning  of  the  nineteenth  of  April,  started  for 
Concord,  to  communicate  the  intelligence  there. 
They  were  soon  overtaken  on  the  way  by  Dr 
Samuel  Prescott  of  Concord,  who  joined  them  in 
giving  the  alarm  at  every  house  on  the  road. 
About  half  way  from  Lexington  to  Concord,  while 
Dawes  and  Prescott  were  alarming  a  house  on 

o 

the  road,  Revere,  being  about  one  hundred  rods  in 
advance,  saw  two  officers  in  the  road,  of  the  same 
appearance  as  those  he  had  escaped  in  Charles- 
town.  He  called  to  his  companions  to  assist  him 
in  forcing  his  way  through  them,  but  was  himself 
instantly  surrounded  by  four  officers.  These  officers 
had  previously  thrown  down  the  wall  into  an 
adjoining  field,  and  the  Americans,  prevented  from 
forcing  their  way  onward,  passed  into  the  field. 
Dr  Prescott,  although  the  reins  of  his  horse  had 
been  cut  in  the  struggle  with  the  officers,  succeed 
ed,  by  leaping  a  stone  wall,  in  making  his  escape 
from  the  field  and  reaching  Concord.  Revere 
aimed  at  a  wood,  but  was  there  encountered  by 
six  more  officers,  and  was  with  his  companion 
made  prisoner.  The  British  officers,  who  had 
already  seized  three  other  Americans,  having 


23 

learned  from  their  prisoners  that  the  whole  coun 
try  was  alarmed,  thought  it  best  for  their  own 
safety  to  hasten  back,  taking  their  prisoners  with 
them.  Near  Lexington  meetinghouse,  on  their 
return,  the  British  officers  heard  the  militia,  who 
were  on  parade,  firing  a  volley  of  guns.  Terrified 
at  this,  they  compelled  Revere  to  give  up  his  horse, 
and  then  pushing  forward  at  full  gallop,  escaped 
down  the  road. 

The  morning  was  now  advanced  to  about 
four  o'clock,  nor  was  it  then  known  at  Lexing 
ton  that  the  British  were  so  near  at  hand.  Col 
onel  Revere  again  sought  Messrs  Hancock  and 
Adams  at  the  house  of  the  Reverend  Mr  Clark, 
and  it  was  thought  expedient  by  their  friends, 
who  had  kept  watch  there  during  the  night,  that 
these  eminent  patriots  should  remove  toward  Wo- 
burn.  Having  attended  them  to  a  house  on  the 
Woburn  road,  where  they  proposed  to  stop, 
Colonel  Revere  returned  to  Lexington  to  watch 
the  progress  of  events.  He  soon  met  a  person  at 
full  gallop,  who  informed  him  that  the  British 
troops  were  coming  up  the  road.  Hastening  now 
to  the  public  house,  to  secure  some  papers  of 
Messrs  Hancock  and  Adams,  Colonel  Revere  saw 
the  British  troops  pressing  forward  in  full  array. 


24 

It  was  now  seven  hours,  since  these  troops 
were  put  in  motion.  They  were  mustered  at  ten 
o'clock  of  the  night  preceding,  on  the  Boston 
Common,  and  embarked,  to  the  number  of  eight 
hundred  grenadiers  and  light  infantry,  in  the  boats 
of  the  British  squadron.  They  landed  at  Phipps' 
Farm,  a  little  to  the  south  of  Lechmere's  Point, 
and  on  disembarking,  a  day's  provision  was  dealt 
out  to  them.  Pursuing  the  path  across  the 
marshes,  they  emerged  into  the  old  Charlestown 
and  West  Cambridge  road. 

And  here  let  us  pause  a  moment  in  the  narra 
tion,  to  ask,  who  are  the  men  and  what  is  the 
cause  ?  Is  it  an  army  of  Frenchmen  and  Cana 
dians,  who  in  earlier  days  had  often  run  the  line 
between  them  and  us,  with  havock  and  fire,  and 
who  have  now  come  to  pay  back  the  debt  of 
defeat  and  subjugation  ?  ^  Or  is  it  their  ancient 
ally  of  the  woods,  the  stealthy  savage, — borne  in 
his  light  canoe,  with  muffled  oars,  over  the  mid 
night  waters, — creeping  like  the  felon  wolf 
through  our  villages,  that  he  may  start  up  at  dawn, 
to  wage  a  war  of  surprise,  of  plunder,  and  of  hor 
ror  against  the  slumbering  cradle  and  the  defence- 
x  \^ 

less  fireside  ?/'  O  no !   It  is  the  disciplined  armies 
of  a  brave,  a  Christian,  a  kindred  people  ;   led  by 


»v? 


25 

gallant  officers,  the  choice  sons  of  England  ;  and 
they  are  going  to  seize,  and  secure  for  the  halter, 
men  whose  crime  is,  that  they  have  dared  to  utter 
in  the  English  tongue,  on  this  side  of  the  ocean, 
the  principles  which  gave,  and  give  England  her 
standing  among  the  nations  ;  they  are  going  to 
plunge  their  swords  in  the  breasts  of  men,  who 
fifteen  years  before,  on  the  plains  of  Abraham, 
stood,  and  fought,  and  conquered  by  their  side.  But 
they  go  not  unobserved ;  the  tidings  of  their 
approach  are  travelling  before  them  ;  the  faithful 
messengers  have  aroused  the  citizens  from  their 
slumbers  ;  alarm  guns  are  answering  to  each  other, 
and  spreading  the  news  from  village  to  village  ; 
the  tocsin  is  heard,  at  this  unnatural  hour,  from 
steeples,  that  never  before  rung  with  any  other 
£::.:nmons  than  that  of  the  gospel  of  peace  ;  the 
sacred  tranquillity  of  the  hour  is  startled  with  all 
the  mingled  sounds  of  preparation, — of  gathering 
bands,  and  resolute  though  unorganized  resistance. 
The  Committee  of  Safety,  as  has  been  observed, 
had  set,  the  preceding  day,  at  West  Cambridge ; 
and  three  of  its  respected  members,  Gerry,  Lee,  and 
Orne,  had  retired  to  sleep,  in  the  public  house, 
where  the  session  of  the  committee  was  held.  So 
difficult  was  it,  notwithstanding  all  that  had  passed, 
4 


26 

to  realize  that  a  state  of  things  could  exist,  be 
tween  England  and  America,  in  which  American 
citizens  should  be  liable  to  be  torn  from  their  beds 
by  an  armed  force  at  midnight,  that  the  members  of 
the  Committee  of  Safety,  though  forewarned  of  the 
approach  of  the  British  troops,  did  not  even  think 
it  necessary  to  retire  from  their  lodgings.  On  the 
contrary,  they  rose  from  their  beds  and  went  to 
their  windows  to  gaze  on  the  unwonted  sight,  the 
midnight  march  of  armies  through  the  peaceful 
hamlets  of  New  England.  Half  the  column  had 
already  passed,  when  a  flank  guard  was  promptly 
detached  to  search  the  public  house,  no  doubt  in  the 
design  of  arresting  the  members  of  the  Committee 

O  O 

of  Safety,  who  might  be  there.  It  was  only  at 
this  last  critical  moment,  that  Mr  Gerry  and  his 
friends  bethought  themselves  of  flight,  and  without 
time  even  to  clothe  themselves,  escaped  naked  into 
the  fields. 

By  this  time  Colonel  Smith,  who  commanded 
the  expedition,  appears  to  have  been  alarmed  at 
the  indications  of  a  general  rising  throughout  the 
country.  The  light  infantry  companies  were  now 
detached  and  placed  under  the  command  of  Major 
Pitcairne,  for  the  purpose  of  hastening  forward,  to 
secure  the  bridges  at  Concord ;  and  thus  cut  off 


27 

the  communication  between  this  place  and  the 
towns  north  and  west  of  it.  Before  these  com 
panies  could  reach  Lexington,  the  officers  already 
mentioned,  who  had  arrested  Colonel  Revere, 
joined  their  advancing  countrymen,  and  reported 
that  five  hundred  men  were  drawn  up  in  Lexing 
ton,  to  resist  the  king's  troops.  On  receiving  this 
exaggerated  account,  the  British  light  infantry  was 
halted,  to  give  time  for  the  grenadiers  to  come 
up,  that  the  whole  together  might  move  forward 
to  the  work  of  death. 

The  company  assembled  on  Lexington  Green, 
which  the  British  officers,  in  their  report,  had 
swelled  to  five  hundred,  consisted  of  sixty  or  seven 
ty  of  the  militia  of  the  place.  Information  had 
been  received  about  nightfall,  both  by  private 
means  and  by  communications  from  the  Commit 
tee  of  Safety,  that  a  strong  party  of  officers  had 
been  seen  on  the  road,  directing  their  course  to 
ward  Lexington.  In  consequence  of  this  intelli 
gence,  a  body  of  about  thirty  of  the  militia,  well 
armed,  assembled  early  in  the  evening ;  a  guard  of 
eight  men  under  Colonel  William  Munroe,  then  a 
sergeant  in  the  company,  was  stationed  at  Mr 
Clark's ;  and  three  men  were  sent  off  to  give  the 
alarm  at  Concord.  These  three  messengers  were 


28 

however  stopped  on  their  way,  as  has  been  mention 
ed,  by  the  British  officers,  who  had  already  passed 
onward.  One  of  their  number,  Elijah  Sanderson, 
has  lately  died  at  Salem  at  an  advanced  age.  A 
little  after  midnight,  as  has  been  observed,  Messrs 
Revere  and  Dawes  arrived  with  the  certain  inform 
ation,  that  a  very  large  body  of  the  royal  troops 
was  in  motion.  The  alarm  was  now  generally 
given  to  the  inhabitants  of  Lexington,  messengers 
were  sent  down  the  road  to  ascertain  the  move 
ments  of  the  troops,  and  the  militia  company  under 
Captain  John  Parker  appeared  on  the  green  to 
the  number  of  one  hundred  and  thirty.  The  roll 
was  duly  called  at  this  perilous  midnight  muster, 
and  some  answered  to  their  names  for  the  last  time 
on  earth.  The  company  was  now  ordered  to  load 
with  powder  and  ball,  and  awaited  in  anxious  ex 
pectation  the  return  of  those  who  had  been  sent 
to  reconnoitre  the  enemy.  One  of  them,  in  con 
sequence  of  some  misinformation,  returned  and  re 
ported  that  there  wras  no  appearance  of  troops  on 
the  road  from  Boston.  Under  this  harassing 
uncertainty  and  contradiction,  the  militia  wrere 
dismissed,  to  await  the  return  of  the  other  expresses 
and  with  orders  to  be  in  readiness  at  the  beat  of 
the  drum.  One  of  these  messengers  was  made  pris- 


29 

oner  by  the  British,  whose  march  was  so  cautious, 
that  they  remained  undiscovered  till  within  a  mile 
and  a  half  of  Lexington  meetinghouse,  and  time  was 
scarce  left  for  the  last  messenger  to  return  with 
the  tidings  of  their  approach. 

The  new  alarm  was  now  given  ;  the  bell  rings, 
alarm  guns  are  fired,  the  drum  beats  to  arms. 
Some  of  the  militia  had  gone  home,  when  dismiss 
ed  ;  but  the  greater  part  were  in  the  neighbouring 
houses,  and  instantly  obeyed  the  summons.  Sixty  or 
seventy  appeared  on  the  green  and  were  drawn  up 
in  double  ranks.  At  this  moment  the  British  col 
umn  of  eight  hundred  gleaming  bayonets  appears, 
headed  by  their  mounted  commanders,  their  banners 
flying  and  drums  beating  a  charge.  To  engage 
them  with  a  handful  of  militia  of  course  was  mad 
ness, — to  fly  at  the  sight  of  them,  they  disdained. 
The  British  troops  rush  furiously  on  ;  their  com 
manders,  with  mingled  threats  and  execrations, 
bid  the  Americans  lay  down  their  arms  and  disperse, 
and  their  own  troops  to  fire.  A  moment's  delay, 
as  of  compunction,  follows.  The  order  with  vehe 
ment  imprecations  is  repeated,  and  they  fire.  No 
one  falls,  and  the  band  of  self-devoted  heroes,  most 
of  whom  had  never  seen  such  a  body  of  troops 
before,  stand  firm  in  the  front  of  an  army,  outnum- 


30 

bering  them  ten  to  one.  Another  volley  succeeds  ; 
the  killed  and  wounded  drop,  and  it  was  not  till 
they  had  returned  the  fire  of  the  overwhelming 
force,  that  the  militia  were  driven  from  the  field. 
A  scattered  fire  now  succeeded  on  both  sides  while 
the  Americans  remained  in  sight  ;  and  the  British 
troops  were  then  drawn  up  on  the  green  to  fire  a 
volley  and  give  a  shout  in  honor  of  the  victory.* 

While  these  incidents  were  taking  place,  and 
every  moment  then  came  charged  with  events  which 
were  to  give  a  character  to  centuries,  Hancock 
and  Adams,  though  removed  by  their  friends  from 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  force  sent  to  appre 
hend  them,  were  apprized,  too  faithfully,  that  the 
work  of  death  was  begun.  The  heavy  and  quick 
repeated  vollies  told  them  a  tale,  that  needed  no 
exposition, — which  proclaimed  that  Great  Britain 
had  renounced  that  strong  invisible  tie  which  bound 
the  descendants  of  England  to  the  land  of  their 
fathers,  and  had  appealed  to  the  right  of  the  strong 
est.  The  inevitable  train  of  consequences  burst 
in  prophetic  fulness  upon  their  minds  ;  and  the 
patriot  Adams,  forgetting  the  scenes  of  tribulation 
through  which  America  must  pass  to  realize  thepros- 

*  See  note  C. 


31 

pect,  and  heedless  that  the  ministers  of  vengeance, 
in  overwhelming  strength,  were  in  close  pursuit  of 
his  own  life,  uttered  that  memorable  exclamation, 
than  which  nothing  more  generous,  nothing  more 
sublime  can  be  found  in  the  records  of  Grecian  or 
Roman  heroism, — "  O,  what  a  glorious  morning  is 
this !  " 

Elated  with  its  success,  the  British  army  took 
up  its  march  toward  Concord.  The  intelligence 
of  the  projected  expedition  had  been  communicated 
to  this  town  by  Dr  Samuel  Prescott,  in  the  man 
ner  already  described ;  and  from  Concord  had 
travelled  onward  in  every  direction.  The  interval 
was  employed  in  removing  a  portion  of  the  public 
stores  to  the  neighbouring  towns,  while  the  aged 
and  infirm,  the  women  and  children,  sought  refuge 
in  the  surrounding  woods.  About  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  the  glittering  arms  of  the  British 
column  were  seen  advancing  on  the  Lincoln  road. 
A  body  of  militia  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to 
two  hundred  men,  who  had  taken  post  for  obser 
vation  on  the  heights  above  the  entrance  to  the 
town,  retire  at  the  approach  of  the  army  of  the 
enemy,  first  to  the  hill  a  little  farther  north, 
and  then  beyond  the  bridge.  The  British  troops 
press  forward  into  the  town,  and  are  drawn 


32 

up  in  front  of  the  courthouse.  Parties  are  then 
ordered  out  to  the  various  spots  where  the  public 
stores  and  arms  were  supposed  to  be  deposited. 
Much  had  been  removed  to  places  of  safety,  and 
something  was  saved  by  the  prompt  and  innocent 
artifices  of  individuals.  The  destruction  of  prop 
erty  and  of  arms  was  hasty  and  incomplete,  and 
considered  as  the  object  of  an  enterprise  of  such 
fatal  consequences,  it  stands  in  shocking  contrast 
with  the  waste  of  blood  by  which  it  was  effected. 

I  am  relating  events,  which,  though  they  can 
never  be  repeated  more  frequently  than  they  de 
serve,  are  yet  familiar  to  all  who  hear  me.  I  need 
not  therefore  attempt,  nor  would  it  be  practicable 
did  I  attempt  it,  to  recall  the  numerous  interesting 
occurrences  of  that  ever  memorable  day.  The 
reasonable  limits  of  a  public  discourse  must  con 
fine  us  to  a  selection  of  the  more  prominent  inci 
dents. 

It  was  the  first  care  of  the  British  commander 
to  cut  off  the  approach  of  the  Americans  from  the 
neighbouring  towns,  by  destroying  or  occupying  the 
bridges.  A  party  was  immediately  sent  to  the 
south  bridge  and  tore  it  up.  A  force  of  six  com 
panies,  under  Captains  Parsons  and  Lowrie,  was 
sent  to  the  north  bridge.  Three  companies  under 


33 

Captain  Lowrie  were  left  to  guard  it,  and  three 
under  Captain  Parsons  proceeded  to  Colonel  Bar 
rett's  house,  in  search  of  provincial  stores.  While 
they  were  engaged  on  that  errand,  the  militia  of 
Concord,  joined  by  their  brave  brethren  from  the 
neighbouring  towns,  gathered  on  the  hill  opposite  the 
north  bridge,  under  the  command  of  Colonel  Rob 
inson  and  Major  Buttrick.  The  British  companies 
at  the  bridge  were  now  apparently  bewildered 
with  the  perils  of  their  situation,  and  began  to 
tear  up  the  planks  of  the  bridge  ;  not  remembering 
that  this  would  expose  their  own  party,  then  at 
Colonel  Barrett's,  to  certain  and  entire  destruction. 
The  Americans,  on  the  other  hand,  resolved  to 
keep  open  the  communication  with  the  town,  and 
perceiving  the  attempt  which  was  made  to  destroy 
the  bridge,  were  immediately  put  in  motion,  with 
orders  not  to  give  the  first  fire.  They  draw  near  to 
the  bridge,  the  Acton  company  in  front,  led  on  by 
the  gallant  Davis.  Three  alarm  guns  were  fired 
into  the  water,  by  the  British,  without  arresting 
the  march  of  our  citizens.  The  signal  for  a  gene 
ral  discharge  is  then  made  ; — a  British  soldier  steps 
from  the  ranks  and  fires  at  Major  Buttrick.  The 
ball  passed  between  his  arm  and  his  side,  and 
slightly  wounded  Mr  Luther  Blanchard,  who  stood 
5 


34 

near  him.  A  volley  instantly  followed,  and  Cap 
tain  Davis  was  shot  through  the  heart,  gallantly 
marching  at  the  head  of  the  Acton  militia  against 
the  choice  troops  of  the  British  line.  A  private  of 
his  company,  Mr  Hosmer  of  Acton,  also  fell  at 
his  side.  A  general  action  now  ensued,  which 
terminated  in  the  retreat  of  the  British  party,  after 
the  loss  of  several  killed  and  wounded,  toward  the 
centre  of  the  town,  followed  by  the  brave  band 
who  had  driven  them  from  their  post.  The  ad 
vance  party  of  British  at  Colonel  Barrett's  was 
thus  left  to  its  fate  ;  and  nothing  Avould  have  been 
more  easy  than  to  effect  its  entire  destruction. 
But  the  idea  of  a  declared  war  had  yet  scarcely 
forced  itself,  with  all  its  consequences,  into  the 
minds  of  our  countrymen ;  and  these  advanced 
companies  were  allowed  to  return  unmolested  to 
the  main  band. 

It  was  now  twelve  hours  since  the  first  alarm 
had  been  given,  the  evening  before,  of  the  medi 
tated  expedition.  The  swift  watches  of  that 
eventful  night  had  scattered  the  tidings  far  and 
wide  ;  and  widely  as  they  spread,  the  people  rose 
in  their  strength.  The  genius  of  America,  on  this 
the  morning  of  her  emancipation,  had  sounded  her 
hoi  n  over  the  plains  and  upon  the  mountains ;  and  the 


85 

indignant  yeomanry  of  the  land,  armed  with  the 
weapons  which  had  done  service  in  their  fathers' 
hands,  poured  to  the  spot  where  this  new  and 
strange  tragedy  was  acting.  The  old  New  Eng 
land  drums,  that  had  beat  at  Louisburgh,  at  Quebec, 
at  Martinique,  at  the  Havana,  were  now  sounding 
on  all  the  roads  to  Concord.  There  were  officers 
in  the  British  line,  that  knew  the  sound  ; — they 
had  heard  it,  in  the  deadly  breach,  beneath  the 
black,  deep-throated  engines  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  castles.  With  the  British  it  was  a  ques 
tion  no  longer  of  protracted  hostility,  nor  even  of 
halting  long  enough  to  rest  their  exhausted  troops, 
after  a  weary  night's  march,  and  all  the  labor, 
confusion,  and  distress  of  the  day's  efforts.  Their 
dead  were  hastily  buried  in  the  public  square ; 
their  wounded  placed  in  the  vehicles  which  the 
town  afforded  ;  and  a  flight  commenced,  to  which 
the  annals  of  British  warfare  will  hardly  afford  a 
parallel.  On  all  the  neighbouring  hills  were  mul 
titudes  from  the  surrounding  country,  of  the  unarm 
ed  and  infirm,  of  women  and  of  children,  who  had 
fled  from  the  terrors  and  the  perils  of  the  plunder 
and  conflagration  of  their  homes  ;  or  were  collect 
ed,  with  fearful  curiosity,  to  mark  the  progress  of 
this  storm  of  war.  The  panic  fears  of  a  calamitous 


36 

flight,  on  the  part  of  the  British,  transformed  this 
inoffensive,  timid  throng  into  a  threatening  ar 
ray  of  armed  men  ;  and  there  was  too  much 
reason  for  the  misconception.  Every  height  of 
ground,  within  reach  of  the  line  of  march,  was 
covered  with  the  indignant  avengers  of  their 
slaughtered  brethren.  The  British  light  companies 
were  sent  out  to  great  distances  as  flanking  par 
ties  ;  but  who  was  to  flank  the  flankers  ?  Every 
patch  of  trees,  every  rock,  every  stream  of  water, 
every  building,  every  stone  wall,  was  lined  (I  use 
the  words  of  a  British  officer  in  the  battle),  was 
lined  with  an  unintermitted  fire.  Every  cross 
road  opened  a  new  avenue  to  the  assailants. 
Through  one  of  these  the  gallant  Brooks  lead  up 
the  minute  men  of  Reading.  At  another  defile,  they 
were  encountered  by  the  Lexington  militia,  under 
Captain  Parker,  who,  undismayed  at  the  loss  of 
more  than  a  tenth  of  their  number  in  killed  and 
wounded  in  the  morning,  had  returned  to  the  con 
flict.  At  first  the  contest  was  kept  up  by  the 
British,  with  all  the  skill  and  valor  of  veteran 
troops.  To  a  military  eye  it  was  not  an  unequal 
contest.  The  commander  was  not,  or  ought  not 
to  have  been,  taken  by  surprise.  Eight  hundred 
picked  men,  grenadiers  and  light  infantry,  from 


37 

the  English  army,  were  no  doubt  considered  by 
General  Gage  a  very  ample  detachment  to  march 
eighteen  or  twenty  miles  through  an  open  country  ; 
and  a  very  fair  match  for  all  the  resistance  which 
could  be  made  by  unprepared  husbandmen,  without 
concert,  discipline,  or  leaders.  With  about  ten 
times  their  number,  the  Grecian  commander  had 
forced  a  inarch  out  of  the  wrecks  of  a  field  of 
battle  and  defeat,  through  the  barbarous  nations 
of  Asia,  for  thirteen  long  months,  from  the  plains 
of  Babylon  to  the  Black  sea,  through  forests, 
defiles,  and  deserts,  which  the  foot  of  civilized 
man  had  never  trod.  It  was  the  American  cause, — 
its  holy  foundation  in  truth  and  right,  its  strength 
and  life  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  that  converted 
what  would  naturally  have  been  the  undisturbed 
march  of  a  strong,  well  provided  army,  into  a  rab 
ble  rout  of  terror  and  death.  It  was  this,  which 
sowed  the  fields  of  our  pacific  villages  with  drag 
on's  teeth  ;  which  nerved  the  arm  of  age  ;  called 
the  ministers  and  servants  of  the  church  into  the 
hot  fire ;  and  even  filled  with  strange  passion  and 
manly  strength  the  heart  and  the  arm  of  the  strip 
ling.  A  British  historian,  to  paint  the  terrific 
aspect  of  things  that  presented  itself  to  his  coun 
trymen,  declares  that  the  rebels  swarmed  upon  the 


38 

hills,  as  if  they  dropped  from  the  clouds.  Before 
the  flying  troops  had  reached  Lexington,  their 
rout  was  entire.  Some  of  the  officers  had  been 
made  prisoners,  some  had  been  killed,  and  several 
wounded,  and  among  them  the  commander  in  chief, 
Colonel  Smith.  The  ordinary  means  of  preserv 
ing  discipline  failed  ;  the  wounded,  in  chaises  and 
wagons,  pressed  to  the  front  and  obstructed  the 
road  ;  wherever  the  flanking  parties,  from  the 
nature  of  the  ground,  were  forced  to  come  in,  the 
line  of  march  was  crowded  and  broken  ;  the  ammu 
nition  began  to  fail ;  and  at  length  the  entire  body 
was  on  a  full  run.  "  We  attempted,"  says  a 
British  officer  already  quoted,  "  to  stop  the  men 
and  form  them  two  deep,  but  to  no  purpose  ;  the 
confusion  rather  increased  than  lessened."  An 
English  historian  says,  the  British  soldiers  were 
driven  before  the  Americans  like  sheep  ;  till,  by  a 
last  desperate  effort,  the  officers  succeeded  in  forc 
ing  their  way  to  the  front,  "  when  they  presented 
their  swords  and  bayonets  against  the  breasts  of 
their  own  men,  and  told  them  if  they  advanced  they 
should  die."  Upon  this  they  began  to  form,  under 
what  the  same  British  officer  pronounces  "  a  very 
heavy  fire,"  which  must  soon  have  led  to  the  de 
struction  or  capture  of  the  whole  corps.  At  this 


39 

critical  moment,  it  pleased  Providence  that  a  rein 
forcement  should  arrive.  Colonel  Smith  had  sent 
back  a  messenger  from  Lexington  to  apprize  Gen 
eral  Gage  of  the  check  he  had  there  received,  and 
of  the  alarm  which  was  running  through  the  coun 
try.  Three  regiments  of  infantry  and  two  divis 
ions  of  marines  with  two  fieldpieces,  under  the 
command  of  Brigadier  General  Lord  Percy,  were 
accordingly  detached.  They  marched  out  of 
Boston,  through  Roxbury  and  Cambridge,*  and 
came  up  with  the  flying  party,  in  the  hour  of  their 
extreme  peril.  While  their  fieldpieces  kept  the 
Americans  at  bay,  the  reinforcement  drew  up  in 
a  hollow  square,  into  which,  says  the  British  histori 
an,  they  received  the  exhausted  fugitives,  "  who  lay 
down  on  the  ground,  with  their  tongues  hanging 
from  their  mouths,  like  dogs  after  a  chase." 

A  half  an  hour  was  given  to  rest ;  the  march 
was  then  resumed  ;  and  under  cover  of  the  field- 
pieces,  every  house  in  Lexington,  and  on  the  road 
downwards,  was  plundered  and  set  on  fire.  Though 
the  flames  in  most  cases  were  speedily  extinguished, 
several  houses  were  destroyed.  Notwithstanding 
the  attention  of  a  great  part  of  the  Americans  was 
thus  drawn  off;  and  although  the  British  force 
*  See  note  D. 


40 

was  now  more  than  doubled,  their  retreat  still 
wore  the  aspect  of  a  flight.  The  Americans  filled 
the  heights  that  overhung  the  road,  and  at  every 
defile,  the  struggle  was  sharp  and  bloody.  At 
West  Cambridge,  the  gallant  Warren,  never  dis 
tant  when  danger  was  to  be  braved,  appeared  in 
the  field,  and  a  musket  ball  soon  cut  off  a  lock  of 
hair  from  his  temple.  General  Heath  was  with  him, 
nor  does  there  appear  till  this  moment,  to  have 
been  any  effective  command  among  the  American 
forces. 

Below  West  Cambridge,  the  militia  from  Dor 
chester,  Roxbury,  and  Brookline  came  up.  The 
British  fieldpieces  began  to  lose  their  terror.  A 
sharp  skirmish  followed,  and  many  fell  on  both 
sides.  Indignation  and  outraged  humanity  strug 
gled  on  the  one  hand,  veteran  discipline  and  des 
peration  on  the  other  ;  and  the  contest,  in  more 
than  one  instance,  was  man  to  man,  and  bayonet 
to  bayonet. 

The  British  officers  had  been  compelled  to  de 
scend  from  their  horses  to  escape  the  certain  destruc 
tion,  which  attended  their  exposed  situation.  The 
wounded,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred,  now  pre 
sented  the  most  distressing  and  constantly  increas 
ing  obstruction  to  the  progress  of  the  march. 


41 

Near  one  hundred  brave  men  had  fallen  in  this 
disastrous  flight ;  a  considerable  number  had  been 
made  prisoners ;  a  round  or  two  of  ammunition 
only  remained ;  and  it  was  not  till  late  in  the 
evening,  nearly  twenty-four  hours  from  the  time 
when  the  first  detachment  was  put  in  motion,  that 
the  exhausted  remnant  reached  the  heights  of 
Charlestown.  The  boats  of  the  vessels  of  war 
were  immediately  employed  to  transport  the 
wounded  ;  the  remaining  British  troops  in  Boston 
came  over  to  Charlestown  to  protect  their  weary 
countrymen  during  the  night ;  and  before  the  close 
of  the  next  day  the  royal  army  was  formally  be 
sieged  in  Boston. 

Such,  fellow  citizens,  imperfectly  sketched  in 
their  outline,  were  the  events  of  the  day  we  cele 
brate  ;  a  day  as  important  as  any  recorded  in  the 
history  of  man.  Such  were  the  first  of  a  series  of 
actions,  that  have  extensively  changed  and  are 
every  day  more  extensively  changing  the  condition 
and  prospects  of  the  human  race.  Such  were  the 
perils,  such  the  sufferings  of  our  fathers,  which  it 
has  pleased  Providence  to  crown  with  a  blessing 
beyond  the  most  sanguine  hopes  of  those  who 
then  ventured  their  all  in  the  cause. 
6 


42 

It  is  a  proud  anniversary  for  our  neighbourhood. 
We  have  cause  for  honest  complacency,  that  when 
the  distant  citizen  of  our  own  republic,  when  the 
stranger  from  foreign  lands,  inquires  for  the  spots 
where  the  noble  blood  of  the  revolution  began  to 
flow,  where  the  first  battle  of  that  great  and  glori 
ous  contest  was  fought,  he  is  guided  through  the 
villages  of  Middlesex,  to  the  plains  of  Lexington 
and  Concord.  It  is  a  commemoration  of  our  soil, 
to  which  ages,  as  they  pass,  will  add  dignity  and 
interest ;  till  the  names  of  Lexington  and  Concord, 
in  the  annals  of  freedom,  will  stand  by  the  side  of 
the  most  honourable  names  in  Roman  or  Grecian 
story. 

It  was  one  of  those  great  days,  one  of  those 
elemental  occasions  in  the  world's  affairs,  when 
the  people  rise,  and  act  for  themselves.  Some 
organization  and  preparation  had  been  made  ;  but, 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  with  scarce  any  effect 
on  the  events  of  that  day.  It  may  be  doubted, 
whether  there  was  an  efficient  order  given  the 
whole  day  to  any  body  of  men,  as  large  as  a  regi 
ment.  It  was  the  people,  in  their  first  capacity, 
as  citizens  and  as  freemen,  starting  from  their  beds 
at  midnight,  from  their  firesides,  and  from  their 
fields,  to  take  their  own  cause  into  their  own 


43 

hands.  Such  a  spectacle  is  the  height  of  the  moral 
sublime  ;  when  the  want  of  every  thing  is  fully 
m:ule  up  by  the  spirit  of  the  cause  ;  and  the  soul 
within  stands  in  place  of  discipline,  organization, 
resources.  In  the  prodigious  efforts  of  a  veteran 
army,  beneath  the  dazzling  splendor  of  their 
array,  there  is  something  revolting  to  the  reflective 
mind.  The  ranks  are  filled  with  the  desperate, 
the  mercenary,  the  depraved  ;  an  iron  slavery,  by 
the  name  of  subordination,  merges  the  free  will  of 
one  hundred  thousand  men,  in  the  unqualified  des 
potism  of  one  ;  the  humanity,  mercy,  and  remorse, 
which  scarce  ever  desert  the  individual  bosom,  are 
sounds  without  a  meaning  to  that  fearful,  ravenous, 
irrational  monster  of  prey,  a  mercenary  army. 
It  is  hard  to  say  who  are  most  to  be  commiserat 
ed,  the  wretched  people  on  whom  it  is  let  loose, 
or  the  still  more  wretched  people  whose  substance 
has  been  sucked  out,  to  nourish  it  into  strength 
and  fury.  But  in  the  efforts  of  the  people,  of 
the  people  struggling  for  their  rights,  moving  not 
in  organized,  disciplined  masses,  but  in  their  spon 
taneous  action,  man  for  man,  and  heart  for  heart, — 
though  I  like  not  war  nor  any  of  its  works, — 
there  is  something  glorious.  They  can  then  move 
forward  without  orders,  act  together  without  combi- 


44 

nation,  and  brave  the  flaming  lines  of  battle,  with 
out  entrenchments  to  cover,  or  walls  to  shield 
them.  No  dissolute  camp  has  worn  off  from  the 
feelings  of  the  youthful  soldier  the  freshness  of 
that  home,  where  his  mother  and  his  sisters  sit 
waiting,  with  tearful  eves  and  aching  hearts,  to 
hear  good  news  from  the  wars  ;  no  long  service  in 
the  ranks  of  a  conqueror  has  turned  the  veteran's 
heart  into  marble ;  their  valor  springs  not  from 
recklessness,  from  habit,  from  indifference  to  the 
preservation  of  a  life,  knit  by  no  pledges  to  the  life 
of  others.  But  in  the  strength  and  spirit  of  the 
cause  alone  they  act,  they  contend,  they  bleed.  In 
this,  they  conquer.  The  people  always  conquer. 
They  always  must  conquer.  Armies  may  be  de 
feated  ;  kings  may  be  overthrown,  and  new 
dvnasties  imposed  by  foreign  arms  on  an  ignorant 
and  slavish  race,  that  care  not  in  what  language 
the  covenant  of  their  subjection  runs,  nor  in 
whose  name  the  deed  of  their  barter  and  sale  is 
made  out.  But  the  people  never  invade;  and 
when  they  rise  against  the  invader,  are  never  sub 
dued.  If  they  are  driven  from  the  plains,  they  fly 
to  the  mountains.  Steep  rocks  and  everlasting 
hills  are  their  castles  ;  the  tangled,  pathless  thicket 
their  palisado,  and  nature, — God,  is  their  ally. 


or   ' 

'VKRSITY 


45 

Ndw  he  overwhelms  the  hosts  of  their  enemies 
beneath  his  drifting  mountains  of  sand  ;  now  he 
buries  them  beneath  a  falling  atmosphere  of  polar 
snows  ;  he  lets  loose  his  tempests  on  their  fleets  ; 
he  puts  a  folly  into  their  counsels,  a  madness  into 
the  hearts  of  their  leaders  ;  and  never  gave  and 
and  never  will  give  a  full  and  final  triumph  over  a 
virtuous,  gallant  people,  resolved  to  be  free. 

There  is  another  reflection,  which  deserves  to 
be  made,  while  we  dwell  on  the  events  of  the 
nineteenth  of  April.  It  was  the  work  of  the 
country.  The  cities  of  America,  particularly  the 
metropolis  of  our  own  state,  bore  their  part  nobly 
in  the  revolutionary  contest.  It  is  not  unjust  to 
say,  that  much  of  the  spirit  which  animated  Amer 
ica,  particularly  before  the  great  appeal  to  arms, 
grew  out  of  the  comparison  of  opinions  and  concert 
of  feeling,  which  might  not  have  existed,  without 
the  convenience  of  assembling  which  our  large 

towns  afford.     But  if  we  must  look  to  the  city  for 

/fl* 

a  part  of  the  impulse,  we  must  look  to  the  country 

at  large,  for  the  heart  to  be  moved, — for  the  strength 
and  vigor  to  persevere  in  the  motion.  It  was  the 
great  happiness  of  America,  that  her  cities  were  no 
larger,  no  more  numerous,  no  nearer  to  each  other  ; 
that  the  strength,  the  intelligence,  the  spirit  of  the 


46 

people   were  diffused  over   plains,  and  encamped 
on  the  hills. 

In  most  of  the  old  and  powerful  states  of  Europe, 
the  nation  is  identified  with  the  capital,  and  the  cap 
ital  with  the  court.  France  must  fall  with  the  cit 
izens  of  Paris,  and  the  citizens  of  Paris  with  a  few 
courtiers,  cabinet  ministers,  and  princes.  No  doubt 
the  English  ministry  thought  that  by  holding  Bos 
ton,  they  held  New  England  ;  that  the  country 
was  conquered  in  advance,  by  the  military  occu 
pation  of  the  great  towns.  They  did  not  know 
that  every  town  and  village  in  America  had  discuss 
ed  the  great  questions  at  issue  for  itself;  and  in 
its  town- meetings,  and  committees  of  correspond 
ence  and  safety,  had  come  to  the  resolution,  that 
America  must  not  be  taxed  by  England.  The  Eng 
lish  government  did  not  understand, — we  hardly 
understood,  ourselves,  till  we  saw  it  in  action, — 
.A  the  operation  of  a  state  of  society,  where  every  man 
is  or  may  be  a  freeholder,  a  voter  for  every  elec 
tive  office,  a  candidate  for  every  one  ;  where  the 
means  of  a  good  education  are  universally  accessi 
ble  ;  where  the  artificial  distinctions  of  society  are 
known  but  in  a  slight  degree  ;  where  glaring  con 
trasts  of  condition  are  rarely  met  with  ;  where  few 
are  raised  by  the  extreme  of  wealth  above  their 


47 

fellow-men,  and  fewer  sunk  by  the  extreme  of 
poverty  beneath  it.  The  English  ministry  had 
not  reasoned  upon  the  natural  growth  of  such  a 
soil ;  that  it  could  not  permanently  bear  either  a 
colonial,  or  a  monarchical  government ;  that  the 
only  true  and  native  growth  of  such  a  soil  was  a 
perfect  independence  and  an  intelligent  republican 
ism.  Independence,  because  such  a  country  must 
disdain  to  go  over  the  water  to  find  another  to 
protect  it ;  Republicanism,  because  the  people  of 
such  a  country  must  disdain  to  look  up  for  protec 
tion  to  any  one  class  among  themselves.  The  entire 
action  of  these  principles  was  unfolded  to  the  world 
on  the  nineteenth  of  April,  1 775.  Without  waiting 
to  take  an  impulse  from  any  thing  but  their  own 
breasts,  and  in  defiance  of  the  whole  exerted  powers 
of  the  British  empire,  the  yeomanry  of  the  country 
rose  as  a  man,  and  set  their  lives  on  this  dear  stake 
of  liberty. 

Q. 
When  we  look  back  on  the  condition  in  which 

America  stood  on  the  19th  of  April,  1775;  and 
compare  it  with  that  in  which  it  stands  this  day, 
we  can  find  no  language  of  gratitude  with  which 
to  do  justice  to  those,  who  took  the  lead  in  the 
revolutionary  cause.  The  best  gratitude,  the  best 


48 

thanks,  will  be  an  imitation  of  their  example.  It 
would  be  an  exceedingly  narrow  view  of  the  part 
assigned  to  this  country  on  the  stage  of  the  na 
tions,  to  consider  the  erection  of  an  independent 
and  representative  government  as  the  only  political 
object  at  which  the  revolution  aimed,  and  the 
only  political  improvement  which  our  duty  re 
quires.  These  are  two  all-important  steps,  indeed, 
in  the  work  of  meliorating  the  state  of  society. 
The  first  gives  the  people  of  America  the  sovereign 
power  of  carrying  its  will  into  execution  ;  the 
second  furnishes  an  equitable  and  convenient  mode 
of  ascertaining  what  the  will  of  the  people  is. 
But  shall  we  stop  here  ?  shall  we  make  no  use  of 
these  two  engines,  by  whose  combined  action 
every  individual  mind  enjoys  a  share  in  the  sove 
reign  power  of  this  great  nation  ?  Most  of  the 
civil  and  social  institutions  which  still  exist  in 
the  country,  were  brought  by  our  fathers  from  the 
old  world,  and  are  strongly  impressed  with  the 
character  of  the  state  of  society  which  there  prevails. 
Under  the  influence  of  necessity,  these  institu 
tions  have  been  partially  reformed,  and  rendered, 
to  a  certain  degree,  harmonious  with  the  nature  of 
a  popular  government.  But  much  remains  to  be 
done,  to  make  the  work  of  revolution  complete. 


/  41J 

The  whole  business  of  public  instruction,  of  the 
administration  of  justice,  of  military  defence  in 
time  of  peace,  needs  to  be  revolutionized  ;  that  is, 
to  be  revised  and  made  entirely  conformable  to  the 
interests  and  wishes  of  the  great  mass.  It  is  time, 
in  short,  to  act  upon  the  maxim  in  which  the  wis 
dom  of  all  ages  is  wrapped  up,  THE  VOICE  OF  THE 
PEOPLE  is  THE  VOICE  OF  GOD.  Apart  from  in 
spired  revelation,  there  is  no  way,  in  which  the 
will  of  heaven  is  made  known,  but  by  the  sound, 
collective  sense  of  the  majority  of  men.  It  is 
given  to  no  privileged  family,  to  no  hereditary 
ruler  ;  it  is  given  to  no  commanding  genius  ;  it  is 
given  to  no  learned  sage  ;  it  is  given  to  no  circle 
of  men  to  pronounce  this  sacred  voice.  It  must 
be  uttered  by  the  people,  in  their  own  capacity  ; 
and  whensoever  it  is  uttered,  I  say  not  it  ought 
to  be,  but  that  it  will  be  obeyed.  ^ 

But  it  is  time  to  relieve  your  patience.  I  need 
not  labor  to  impress  you  with  a  sense  of  the  duty, 
which  devolves  on  those,  whose  sires  achieved  the 
ever  memorable  exploits  of  this  day.  The  lesson, 
I  know,  has  not  been  lost  upon  you.  Nowhere 
have  the  spirit  and  principles  of  the  revolution 
preserved  themselves  in  greater  purity;  nowhere 
have  the  institutions,  to  which  the  revolution  led. 
7 


50 

been  more  firmly  cherished.  The  toils  and  suffer 
ings  of  that  day  were  shared  by  a  glorious  band 
of  patriots,  whose  name  was  your  boast  while 
living  ;  whose  memory  you  will  never  cease  to 
cherish.  The  day  we  commemorate  called  the 
noble  farmer  of  Middlesex — the  heroic  Prescott — to 
the  field,  and  impelled  him,  not  to  accept,  but  to 
/•Y  solicit  the  post  of  honor  and  danger,  on  the  17th 

of  June  : — noble  I  call   him,  for  when  did  coronet 
yP  -  ^ 

or  diadem    ever   confer   distinction,  like  the  glory 

which  rests  on  that  man's  name.  In  the  perils  of 
this  day,  the  venerable  Gerry  bore  his  part.  This 
was  the  day,  which  called  the  lamented  Brooks 
and  Eustis  to  their  country's  service  ;  which  en 
listed  them,  blooming  in  the  freshness  and  beauty 
of  youth,  in  that  sacred  cause,  to  which  the 
strength  of  their  manhood  and  the  grey  hairs  of 
their  age  were  devoted.  The  soil  which  holds 
their  honored  dust  shall  never  be  unworthy  of 
them. 

What  pride  did  you  not  justly  feel  in  that  soil, 
when  you  lately  welcomed  the  nation's  guest — the 
venerable  champion  of  America — to  the  spot,  where 
that  first  note  of  struggling  freedom  was  uttered, 
which  sounded  across  the  the  Atlantic,  and  drew 
him  from  all  the  delights  of  life,  to  enlist  in  our 


51 

cause.  Here,  you  could  tell  him,  our  fathers 
fought  and  fell,  before  they  knew  whether  another 
arm  would  be  raised  to  second  them. — No  Wash 
ington  had  appeared  to  lead,  no  Lafayette  had 
hastened  to  assist,  no  charter  of  independence  had 
yet  breathed  the  breath  of  life  into  the  cause,  when 
the  19th  of  April  called  our  fathers  to  the  field. 
What  remains,  then,  but  to  guard  the  precious 
birthright  of  our  liberties  ;  to  draw  from  the  soil 
which  we  inhabit,  a  consistency  in  the  principles 
so  nobly  vindicated,  so  sacredly  sealed  thereon. 
It  shall  never  be  said,  while  distant  regions, 
wheresoever  the  temples  of  freedom  are  reared, 
are  sending  back  their  hearts  to  the  plains  of  Lex 
ington  and  Concord,  for  their  brighest  and  purest 
examples  of  patriotic  daring,  that  we  whose  lives 
are  cast  on  these  favoured  spots,  can  become  in 
different  to  the  exhortation,  which  breathes  to  us 
from  every  sod  of  the  valley.  Those  principles, 
which  others  may  adopt  on  the  colder  ground  of 
their  reason  and  their  truth,  we  are  bound  to  sup 
port  by  the  dearest  and  deepest  feelings.  Where 
soever  the  torch  of  liberty  shall  expire,  where 
soever  the  manly  simplicity  of  our  land  shall  perish 
beneath  the  poison  of  luxury,  wheresoever  the  cause 
which  called  our  fathers  this  day  to  arms,  and  the 


52 

principles  which  sustained  their  hearts  in  that  stern 
encounter,  may  be  deserted  or  betrayed, — it  shall 
not,  fellow  citizens,  it  shall  not  be,  on  the  soil 
which  was  moistened  with  their  blood.  The  names 
of  Marathon  and  Thermopylae,  after  ages  of  sub 
jection,  still  nerve  the  arm  of  the  Grecian  patriot ; 
and  should  the  foot  of  a  tyrant,  or  of  a  slave,  ap 
proach  these  venerated  spots,  the  noble  hearts  that 
bled  at  Lexington  and  Concord,  "  all  dust  as  they 
are,"  *  would  beat  beneath  the  sod  with  indigna 
tion. 

Honor,  this  day,  to  the  venerable  survivors  of 
that  momentous  day,  which  tried  men's  souls. 
Great  is  the  happiness  they  are  permitted  to  enjoy, 
in  uniting,  within  the  compass  of  their  own  expe 
rience,  the  doubtful  struggles  and  the  full  blown 
prosperity  of  our  happy  land.  May  they  share  the 
welfare  they  witness  around  them  ;  it  is  the  work 
of  their  hands,  the  fruit  of  their  toils,  the  price  of 
their  lives  freely  hazarded  that  their  children 
might  live  free.  Bravely  they  dared  ;  patiently, 
aye  more  than  patiently, — heroically,  piously, 
they  suffered  ;  largely,  richly,  may  they  enjoy. 
Most  of  their  companions  are  already  departed  ; 

*  Bossuet ;  Oraison  funcbre  de  la  Heine  d?  Angleterre. 


53 

let  us  renew  our  tribute  of  respect  this  day  to  their 
honored  memory.  Numbers  present  will  recol 
lect  the  affecting  solemnities,  with  which  you  ac 
companied  to  his  last  home,  the  brave,  the  lament 
ed  Buttrick.  With  trailing  banners,  and  mournful 
music,  and  all  the  touching  ensigns  of  military 
sorrow,  you  followed  the  bier  of  the  fallen  soldier, 
over  the  ground  where  he  led  the  determined  band 
of  patriots  on  the  morn  of  the  revolution. 

But  chiefly  to  those  who  fell  ;  to  those  who  stood 
in  the  breach,  at  the  breaking  of  that  day  of  blood 
at  Lexington  ;  to  those  who  joined  in  battle  and 
died  honorably,  facing  the  foe  at  Concord ;  to 
those  who  fell  in  the  gallant  pursuit  of  the  flying 
enemy  ; — let  us  this  day  pay  a  tribute  of  grateful 
admiration.  The  old  and  the  young ;  the  grey- 
haired  veteran,  the  stripling  in  the  flower  of  youth  ; 
husbands,  fathers,  brethren,  sons  ; — they  stood  side 
by  side,  and  fell  together,  like  the  beauty  of  Israel 
on  their  high  places. 

"  We  have  founded  this  day  a  monument  to  their 
memory.  When  the  hands  that  rear  it  are  motion 
less,  when  the  feeble  voice  is  silent,  which  speaks 
our  fathers'  praise,  the  engraven  stone  shall  bear 
witness  to  other  ages,  of  our  gratitude  and  their 
worth.  And  ages  still  farther  on,  when  the  mon- 


54 

ument  itself,  like  those  who  build  it,  shall  have 
crumbled  to  dust,  the  happy  aspect  of  the  land 
which  our  fathers  redeemed,  the  liberty  they 
achieved,  the  institutions  they  founded,  shall  re 
main  one  common,  eternal  monument  to  their 
precious  memory. 


NOTES. 


Note  A,  page  20. 

THAT  the  lanterns  were  observed  in  Charlestown,  we  are 
informed  by  Colonel  Revere,  in  the  interesting  communication 
in  the  Collections  of  the  Historical  Society,  from  which  this 
part  of  the  narrative  is  chiefly  taken.  A  tradition  by  private 
channels  has  descended,  that  these  lanterns  in  the  North  Church 
were  quickly  noticed  by  the  officers  of  the  British  army,  on 
duty  on  the  evening  of  the  18th.  To  prevent  the  alarm  being 
communicated  by  these  signals  into  the  country,  the  British 
officers,  who  had  noticed  them,  hastened  to  the  church  to  ex 
tinguish  them.  Their  steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs  in  the 
tower  of  the  church,  by  the  sexton,  who  had  lighted  the  lanterns. 
To  escape  discovery,  he  himself  extinguished  the  lanterns,  and 
passing  by  the  officers  on  the  stairs,  concealed  himself  in  the 
vaults  of  the  church.  He  was,  a  day  or  two  after,  arrested, 
while  discharging  the  duties  of  his  office  at  a  funeral,  tried,  and 
condemned  to  death ;  but  respited  on  a  threat  of  retaliation 
from  Gen.  Washington,  and  finally  exchanged.  This  anecdote 


56 

was  related  to  me,  with  many  circumstances  of  particularity, 
by  one  who  had  often  heard  it  from  the  sexton  himself. 


Note  B.page  21. 

The  manner  in  which  Colonel  Revere  was  received  at  Lex 
ington,  which  is  not  related  in  his  own  letter,  will  appear  from 
the  following  extract  from  the  deposition  of  Colonel  William 
Munroe,  which,  with  several  other  similar  interesting  docu 
ments,  forms  a  part  of  the  Appendix  to  the  pamphlet  alluded 
to  in  the  next  note. 

"  About  midnight,  Colonel  Paul  Revere  rode  up  and  request 
ed  admittance.  I  told  him  the  family  had  just  retired,  and  re 
quested  they  might  not  be  disturbed  by  any  noise  about  the 
house.  '  Noise  !?  said  he,  '  you  ?11  have  noise  enough  before 
long.  The  regulars  are  coming  out.'  We  then  permitted  him 
to  pass."  p.  33. 


Nott  C,page  30. 

It  will  be  perceived,  that,  in  drawing  up  the  account  of  the 
transactions  at  Lexington,  reference  has  been  had  to  the  testi 
mony  contained  in  the  pamphlet  lately  published,  entitled, 
"History  of  the  Battle  at  Lexington,  on  the  morning  of  the  19th 
of  April,  1775.  By  Elias  Phinney."  While  in  this  pamphlet 


57 

several  interesting  facts  are  added,  on  the  strength  of  the  de 
positions  of  surviving  actors  in  the  scene,  to  the  accounts  pre 
viously  existing;  there  is  nothing,  perhaps,  in  them,  which 
may  not  be  reconciled  with  those  previously  existing  accounts, 
if  due  allowance  he  made  for  the  sole  object  for  which  the  lat 
ter  were  originally  published — to  show  that  the  British  were  the 
aggressors  ; — for  the  hurry  and  confusion  of  the  moment ;  and 
for  the  different  aspect  of  the  scene  as  witnessed  by  different 
persons,  from  different  points  of  view.  It  has,  however,  been 
my  aim  not  to  pronounce  on  questions  in  controversy  ;  but  to 
state  the  impression  left  on  my  own  mind  after  an  attentive 
examination  of  all  the  evidence. 


Note  D,  page  39. 

An  interesting  anecdote  relative  to  this  march  of  Lord  Percy 
has  been  communicated  to  me  by  a  veteran  of  the  Revolution, 
who  bore  his  part  in  the  events  of  the  day.  Intelligence  hav 
ing  been  promptly  received  of  Lord  Percy's  being  detached,  the 
Selectmen  of  Cambridge,  by  order  of  the  Committee  of  Safety, 
caused  the  planks  of  the  Old  Bridge  to  be  taken  up.  Had  this 
been  effectually  done,  it  would  have  arrested  the  progress  of 
Lord  Percy.  But  the  planks,  though  all  taken  up,  instead  of 
being  thrown  into  the  river  or  removed  to  a  distance,  were 
piled  up  on  the  causeway,  at  the  Cambridge  end  of  the  bridge. 

8 


58 

But  little  time  was  therefore  lost  by  Lord  Percy,  in  sending 
over  men  upon  the  string-pieces  of  the  bridge,  who  replaced 
the  planks,  so  as  to  admit  the  passage  of  the  troops.  This  was, 
however,  so  hastily  and  insecurely  done,  that  when  a  convoy 
of  provision  wagons,  with  a  sergeant's  guard,  which  had  follow 
ed  in  the  rear  of  the  reinforcement,  reached  the  bridge,  the 
planks  were  found  to  be  too  loosely  laid  to  admit  a  safe  pas 
sage  ;  and  a  good  deal  of  time  was  consumed  in  adjusting  them. 
The  convoy  at  length  passed  ;  but  after  such  a  delay,  that  Lord 
Percy's  army  was  out  of  sight.  The  officer  who  commanded 
the  convoy  was  unacquainted  with  the  roads,  and  was  misdi 
rected  by  the  inhabitants  at  Cambridge.  Having  at  last,  after 
much  lost  time,  been  put  into  the  right  road,  the  body  of  troops 
under  Lord  Percy  was  so  far  advanced,  as  to  afford  the  convoy 
no  protection.  A  plan  was  accordingly  laid  and  executed  by 
the  citizens  of  West  Cambridge  (then  Menotomy)  to  arrest  this 
convoy.  The  alarum-list,  or  body  of  exempts,  under  Captain 
Frost,  by  whom  this  exploit  was  effected,  acted  under  the  di 
rection  of  a  negro,  who  had  served  in  the  French  war;  and 
who,  on  this  occasion,  displayed  the  utmost  skill  and  spirit. 
The  history  of  Gordon,  and  the  other  accounts  which  follow 
him,  attribute  the  capture  of  the  convoy  to  the  Rev.  Dr  Payson 
of  Chelsea.  Those  who  have  farther  information  alone  can 
judge  between  the  two  accounts.  The  Rev.  Mr  Thaxter,  of 
Edgartown,  in  a  letter  lately  published  in  the  United  States 
Literary  Gazette,  has  ascribed  the  same  exploit  to  the  Rev. 
Edward  Brooks  of  Medford.  Mr  Brooks  early  hastened  to  the 


59 

field  as  a  volunteer  that  day  ;  and  is  said  to  have  preserved  the 
life  of  Lieut.  Gould  of  the  18th  regimem,  who  was  made 
prisoner  at  Concord  Bridge  ;  but  there  is,  I  believe,  no 
ground  for  ascribing  to  him  the  conduct  of  the  affair  in  ques 
tion. 


AN 


ADDRESS 


DELIVERED    AT    THE    LAYING    OF    THE 


OF  THE 


BUNKER  HILL  MONUMENT, 


BY  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 


BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED  BY  CUMMINGS,  HILLIARD,  AND  COMPANY. 

1825. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT : 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  that  on  the  twenty-first  day  of  June,  A.  D.  1825,  in  the 
forty-ninth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  Cum- 
mings,  Milliard,  ^  Co.  of  said  district,  have  deposited  in  this  office  the  title  of 
a  book,  the  right  whereof  they  claim  as  Proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to 
•«,vit : — 

"  An  Address  delivered  at  the  Laying  of  the  Corner  Stone  of  the  Bunker 
Hill  Monumejotr  Hy  Daniel  Webster.*" 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled,  "  An 
Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts, 
and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times 
therein  mentioned :"  and  also  to  an  Act,  entitled,  "  An  Act  supplementary  to 
an  Act,  entitled,  '  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the 
copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies 
during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;'  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the 
arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

JNO.  W.  DAVIS, 

Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


University  Press — Hilliard  &  Metcalf. 


ADDRESS. 


THIS  uncounted  multitude  before  me,  and 
around  me,  proves  the  feeling  which  the  occasion 
has  excited.  These  thousands  of  human  faces, 
glowing  with  sympathy  and  joy/  and,  from-the 
i  Hftft**lses--tyftr-eeimBafl-^^  turned  reverently 


to  heave»,-tti-this.  ,  spacious—  temple^  oL  th^ 
ffietrh  proclaim  that  the  day,  the  place,  and  the 
purpose  Vof  our  assembling  have  made  a  deep 
impression  on  our  hearts. 

in  local  associa 


tion  fit  to  ^iect-  the~-H*mch-Tjf~Tiran7  -^i¥e—  need.  not. 
strive  to_lrepress  the  emotions—which  agitate  us 
here.  We  are  among  the  sepulchres  of  our  fa 
thers.  We  are  on  ground,  distinguished  by  their 
valor,  their  constancy,  and  the  shedding  of  their 
blood.  We  are  here,  not  to  fix  an  uncertain  date 
in  our  annals,  nor  to  draw  into  notice  an  obscure 
and  unknown  spot.  If  our  humble  purpose  had 


never  been  conceived,  if  we  ourselves  had  nevgr 
been  born,  the  17th  of  June  1775  wouloj^nave 
been  a  day  on  which  all  subsequent  history  would 
have  poured  its  light,  and  the  eminence  where 
we  stand,  a  point  of  attraction  to  the  eyes  of 
successive  generations.  But  we  are  Americans. 
We  live  in  what  may  be  called  the  early  age  of 
this  great  continent ;  and  we  know  that  our  pos 
terity,  through  all  time,  are  here  to  suffer  and 
enjoy  the  allotments  of  humanity. 
fora^  us  a  probable  train  of  great 
know  that  our  own  fortunes  have  been  happily 
cast ;  and  it  is  natural,  there  f^pe^that  we  should 
be  moved  by  the  contestation  of  occurrences 
which  have  guidedxdur  destnry^before  many  of 
us  were  born^-alid  settled  the  condftien^in  wrhich 
we  should  pass  that  portion  of  our  existence, 
which  God  allows  to  men  on  earth) 

We  do  not  read  even  of  the  discovery  of  this 
continent,  without  feeling  something  of  a  personal 
interest  in  the  event ;  without  being  reminded  how 
much  it  has  affected  our  own  fortunes,  and  our 
own  existence.  It  is  more  impossible  for  us, 
therefore,  than  for  others,  to  contemplate  with 
unaffected  minds  that  interesting,  I  may  say, 
that  most,  touching  and  pathetic  scene,  when  the 


great  Discoverer  of  America  stood  on  the  deck  of 
his  shattered  bark,  the  shades  of  night  falling  on 
the  sea,  yet  no  man  sleeping  ;  tossed  on  the  bil 
lows  of  an  unknown  ocean,  yet  the  stronger 
billows  of  alternate  hope  and  despair  tossing 
his  own  troubled  thoughts  ;  extending  forward 
his  harassed  frame,  straining  westward  his  anx 
ious  and  eager  eyes,  till  Heaven  at  last  granted 
him  a  moment  of  rapture  and  ecstacy,  in  blessing 
his  vision  with  the  sight  of  the  unknown  world. 
Nearer  to  our  times,  more  closely  connected 
with  our  fates,  and  therefore  still  more  interesting 
to  our  feelings  and  affections,  is  the  settlement  of 
our  own  country  by  colonists  from  England.  We 
cherish  every  memorial  of  these  worthy  ancestors  ; 
we  celebrate  their  patience  and  fortitude  ;  we 
admire  their  daring  enterprise  ;  we  teach  our 
children  to  venerate  their  piety  ;  and  we  are 
justly  proud  of  being  descended  from  men,  who 
have  set  the  world  an  example  of  founding  civil 
institutions  on  the  great  and  united  principles  of 
human  freedom  and  human  knowledge.  To~us, 
their  children,  the  stuiy-ef^their  labors  and  suf- 

..its  interest*     We- 


shall-ftei  stand  unmoved  orTfhc  shore  of  Plymouth, 
while-4lie--sea  €o»to«es  to  wash  k  ;  nor  will  out 


6 


brethren  in  another  earlvXnd  ancient  colony,  for 
get  the  place  of  Xs  first  establishment,  till  their 
ri\7er  shall  cease  m,  flow  by  it.  No  vigor  of 
youth,  no  maturity  ofNmanhood,  will  lead  the 
nation  to  forget  the  spotsVvhere  its  infancy  was 
cradled  and  defended. 

But  the  great  event,  in  the  history  of  the  con 
tinent,  which  we  are  now  met  here  to  commemo 
rate  ;  that  prodigy  of  modern  times,  at  once  the 
wonder  and  the  blessing  of  the  world,  is  the 
American  Revolution.  In  a  day  of  ^extraordinary 
prosperity  and  happiness,  of  high  national  honor, 
distinction,  and  power,  we  are  brought  together, 
in  this  place,  by  our  love  of  country,  by  our  ad 
miration  of  exalted  character,  by  our  gratitude  for 
signal  services  and  patriotic  devotion. 

The  society,  whose  organ  I  am,  was  formed 
for  the  purpose  of  rearing  some  honorable  and 
durable  monument  to  the  memory  of  the  early 
friends  of  American  Independence.  They  have 
thought,' that  -for  this  object  no  time  could 
juorc  propitious,  than  the  present  prosperous  ami 
,  peaceful  period  )  that  no  place  could  claim  pref 
erence  over  this  memorable  spot  ;  and  that  no  day 
could  be  more  auspicious  to  the  undertaking,  than 


the  anniversary  of  the  battle  which  was  here 
fought.  The  foundation  of  that  monument  we 
have  now  laid.  With  solenimties  suited  to  the 
occasion,  with  prayers  to  Almighty  God  for  his 
blessing,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  cloud  of  wit 
nesses,  we  have  begun  the  work.  We  trust  it 
will  be  prosecuted  ;  and  that  springing  from  a 
broad  foundation,  rising  high  in  massive  solidity 
and  unadorned  grandeur,  it  may  remain,(as  long 
as  Heaven  permits  the  works  of  man  to  last)  a^Jit 
emblem,  both  of  the  events  in  memory  of  which  it 
is  raised,  and  of  the  gratitude  of  those  who  have 
reared_it. 

We  know,  indeed,  that  the  record  of  illustri 
ous  actions  is  most  safely  deposited  in  the  uni 
versal  remembrance  of  mankind.  We  know,  that 
if  we  could  cause  this  structure  to  ascend,  not 
only  till  it  reached  the  skies,  but  till  it  pierced 
them,  its  broad  surfaces  could  still  contain  but 
jfjart  of  that,  which,  in  an  age  of  knowledge,  hath 
already  been  spread  over  the  earth,  and  which 
history  charges  itself  with  making  known  to  all 
future  times.  We  know,  that  no  inscription  on  en 
tablatures  less  broad  than  the  earth  itself,  can  carry 
information  of  the  events  we  commemorate,  where 
it  has  not  already  gone ;  and  that  no  structure, 


8 

which  shall  not  outlive  the  duration  of  letters  and 
knowledge  among  men,  can  prolong  the  memori 
al.  But  our  object  is,  by  this  edificejto  show  our 
own  deep  sense  of  the  value  and  importance  of 
the  achievements  of  our  ancestors  ;  and,  by  pre 
senting  this  work  of  gratitude  to  the  eye,  to  keep 
alive  similar  sentiments,  and  to  foster  a  constant 
regard  for  the  principles  of  the  Revolution.  Hu 
man  beings  are  composed  not  of  reason  only,  but 
of  imagination  also,  and  sentiment  ;  and  that  is 
neither  wasted  nor  misapplied  which  is  appropriat 
ed  to  the  purpose  of  giving  right  direction  to  sen 
timents,  and  opening  proper  springs  of  feeling  in 
the  heart.  \JLet  it  not  be  supposed  that  our  object 
is  to  perpetuate  national  hostility,  or  even  to  cher 
ish  a  mere  military  spirit.  It  is  higher,  purer, 
noblery  We  consecrate  our  work  to  the  spirit  of 
national  independence,  and  we  wish  that  the  light 
of  peace  may  rest  upon  it  forever.  We  rear  a  me 
morial  of  our  conviction  of  that  unmeasured  bene 
fit,  which  has  been  conferred  on  our  own  land, 
and  of  the  happy  influences,  which  have  been 
produced,  by  the  same^events,  on  the  general 
interests  of  mankind.  ^  We  come,  as  Americans, 
to  mark  a  spot,  which  must  forever  be  dear  to  us 
and  our  posterity.  \Ke_  wish,  that  whosoever,  in 


all  coming  time,  shall  turn  his  eye  hither,  may 
behold  that  the  place  is  not  undistinguished,  where 
the  first  great  battle  of  the  Revolution  was  fought. 
We_wish,that  this  structure  may  proclaim  the  mag 
nitude  and  importance  of  that  event,  to  every  class 
and  every  age.  We  wish,  that  infancy  may  learn 
the  purpose  of  its  erection  from  maternal  lips,  and 
that  weary  and  withered  age  may  behold  it,  and 
be  solaced  by  the  recollections  which  it  suggests. 
We  wish,  that  labor  may  look  up  here,  and  be 
proud,  in  the  midst  of  its  toil.  We  wish,  that,  in 

those  days  of  disaster,  which,  as  they  come  on  all 

^— —  . 

nations,  must  be  expected  to  come  on  us  also,, 
desponding  patriotism  may  turn  its  eyes  hither- 
ward,  and  be  assured  that  the  foundations  of  our 
national  power  still  stand  strong.  JWe  wish,  that 
this  column,  rising  towards  heaven  among  the 
pointed  spires  of  so  many  temples  dedicated  to 
God,  may  contribute  also  to  produce,  in  all  minds, 
a  pious  feeling  of  dependence  and  gratitude. 
We  wish,  finally,  that  the  last  object  on  the  sight 
of  him  who  leaves  his  native  shore,  and  the  first 
to  gladden  his  who  revisits  it,  may  be  something 
which  shall  remind  him  of  the  liberty  and  the 
glory  of  his  country.  Let  it  rise,  till  it  meet  the 
sun  in  his  coming ;  lot  the  earliest  light  of  the 


10 

morning  gild  it,  and  parting  day  finger  arid  play 
on  its  summit. 

We  live  in  a  most  extraordinary  age.     Events 
so   various    and    so    important,   that    they    might 
crowd  and  distinguish  centuries,  are,  in  our  times, 
compressed   within  the  compass  of  a  single  life. 
When   has  it    happened  that  history   has  had   so 
much  to  record,  in  the  same  term  of  years,  as  since 
the  17th  of  June   1775  ?     Our  own  Revolution, 
which,  under  other  circumstances,  might  itself  have 
been  expected  to  occasion  a  war  of  half  a  century, 
has   been   achieved  ;    twenty-four   sovereign   and 
independent  states  erected  ;  and  a  general  govern 
ment  established  over  them,  so  safe,  so  wise,  so 
free,  so  practical,  that  we  might  W7ell  wonder  its 
establishment  should   have  been  accomplished  so 
soon,  were  it   not   far  the  greater  wonder  that  it 
should   have   been   established    at    all.     Two    or 
three  millions  of  people  have  been  augmented  to 
twelve ;  and  the  great  forests  of  the  West  pros 
trated    beneath  the    arm  of  successful  industry ; 
and  the  dwellers   on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  and 
the  Mississippi,  become  the  fellow  citizens    and 
neighbours  of  those  who  cultivate  the  hills  of  New 
England.     We  have  a  commerce,  that  leaves  no 


11 

sea  unexplored  ;  navies,  which  take  no  law  from 
superior  force  ;  revenues,  adequate  to  all  the  exi 
gencies  of  government,  almost  without  taxation  ; 
and  peace  with  all  nations,  founded  on  equal  rights 
and  mutual  respect. 

Europe,  within  the  same  period,  has  been  agi 
tated  by  a  mighty  revolution,  which,  while  it  has 
been  felt  in  the  individual  condition  and  happi 
ness  of  almost  every  man,  has  shaken  to  the  cen 
tre  her  political  fabric,  and  dashed  against  one 
another  thrones,  which  had  stood  tranquil  for  ages. 
On  this,  our  continent,  our  own  example  has 
been  followed  ;  and  colonies  have  sprung  up  to  be 
nations.  Unaccustomed  sounds  of  liberty  and 
free  government  have  reached  us  from  beyond  the 
track  of  the  sun  ;  and  at  this  moment  the  do 
minion  of  European  power,  in  this  continent,  from 
the  place  where  we  stand  to  the  south  pole,  is 
annihilated  forever. 

In  the  mean  time,  both  in  Europe  and  Ameri 
ca,  such  has  been  the  general  progress  of  knowl 
edge  ;  such  the  improvements  in  legislation,  in 
commerce,  in  the  arts,  in  letters,  and  above  all  in 
liberal  ideas,  and  the  general  spirit  of  the  age, 
that  the  whole  world  seems  changed. 


12 

Yet,  notwithstanding  that  this  is  but  a  faint 
abstract  of  the  things  which  have  happened  since 
the  day  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  we  are  but 
fifty  years  removed  from  it ;  and  we  now  stand 
here,  to  enjoy  all  the  blessings  of  our  own  condi 
tion,  and  to  look  abroad  on  the  brightened  pros 
pects  of  the  world,  while  we  hold  still  among  us 
some  of  those,  who  were  active  agents  in  the 
scenes  of  1775,  and  who  are  now  here,  from  every 
quarter  of  New  England,  to  visit,  once  more,  and 
under  circumstances  so  affecting,  I  had  almost 
said  so  overwhelming,  this  renowned  theatre  of 
their  courage  and  patriotism. 

VENERABLE  MEN  !  you  have  come  down  to  us, 
from  a  former  generation.  Heaven  has  bounte 
ously  lengthened  out  your  lives,  that  you  might 
behold  this  joyous  day.  You  are  now,  where  you 
stood,  fifty  years  ago,  this  very  hour,  with  your 
brothers,  and  your  neighbours,  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
in  the  strife  for  your  country.  Behold,  how 
altered  !  The  same  heavens  are  indeed  over 
your  heads  ;  the  same  ocean  rolls  at  your  feet ; 
but  all  else,  how  changed  !  You  hear  now  no  roar 
of  hostile  cannon,  you  see  no  mixed  volumes  of 
smoke  and  flame  rising  from  burning  Charles- 


13 

town.  The  ground  strewed  with  the  dead  and 
the  dying ;  the  impetuous  charge  ;  the  steady  and 
successful  repulse  ;  the  loud  call  to  repeated  as 
sault  ;  the  summoning  of  all  that  is  manly  to  re 
peated  resistance  ;  a  thousand  bosoms  freely  and 
fearlessly  bared  in  an  instant  to  whatever  of  terror 
there  may  be  in  war  and  death  ; — all  these  you 
have  witnessed,  but  you  witness  them  no  more. 
All  is  peace.  The  heights  of  yonder  metropolis, 
its  towers  and  roofs,  which  you  then  saw  filled 
with  wives  and  children  and  countrymen  in  dis 
tress  and  terror,  and  looking  with  unutterable 
emotions  for  the  issue  of  the  combat,  have  pre 
sented  you  to-day  with  the  sight  of  its  whole  hap 
py  population,  come  out  to  welcome  and  greet  you 
with  an  universal  jubilee.  Yonder  proud  ships, 
by  a  felicity  of  position  appropriately  lying  at  the 
foot  of  this  mount,  and  seeming  fondly  to  cling 
around  it,  are  not  means  of  annoyance  to  you, 
but  your  country's  own  means  of  distinction  and 
defence.  All  is  peace  ;  and  God  has  granted  you 
this  sight  of  your  country's  happiness,  ere  you 
slumber  in  the  grave  forever.  He  has  allowed 
you  to  behold  and  to  partake  the  reward  of  your 
patriotic  toils ;  and  he  has  allowed  us,  your  sons 
and  countrymen,  to  meet  you  here,  and  in  the 


14 

name  of  the  present  generation,  in  the  name  of 
your  country,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  to  thank  you  ! 
But,  alas  !  you  are  not  all  here  !  Time  and 
the  sword  have  thinned  your  ranks.  Prescott, 
Putnam,  Stark,  Brooks,  Read,  Pomeroy,  Bridge  ! 
our  eyes  seek  for  you  in  vain  amidst  this  broken 
band.  You  are  gathered  to  your  fathers,  and  live 
only  to  your  country  in  her  grateful  remembrance, 
and  your  own  bright  example.  But  let  us  not 
too  much  grieve,  that  you  have  met  the  common 
fate  of  men.  You  lived,  at  least,  long  enough  to 
know  that  your  work  had  been  nobly  and  suc 
cessfully  accomplished.  You  lived  to  see  your 
country's  independence  established,  and  to  sheathe 
your  swords  from  war.  On  the  light  of  Liberty 
you  saw  arise  the  light  of  Peace,  like 

c  another  morn, 
Risen  on  mid-noon  ; '  — 

and  the  sky,  on  which  yo\i  closed  your  eyes,  was 
cloudless. 

But — ah  ! — Him  !  the  first  great  Martyr  in  this 
great  cause  !  Hun  !  the  premature  victim  of  his 
own  self-devoting  heart !  Him  !  the  head  of  our 
civil  councils,  and  the  destined  leader  of  our  mili 
tary  bands  ;  whom  nothing  brought  hither,  but 
the  unquenchable  fire  of  his  own  spirit ;  Him  ! 


15 

cut  off  by  Providence,  in  the  hour  of  overwhelm 
ing  anxiety  and  thick  gloom  ;  falling,  ere  he  saw 
the  star  of  his  country  rise  ;  pouring  out  his  gen 
erous  blood,  like  water,  before  he  knew  whether 
it  would  fertilize  a  land  of  freedom  or  of  bondage ! 
how  shall  I  struggle  with  the  emotions,  that  stifle 
the  utterance  of  thy  name  !  —  Our  poor  work  may 
perish  ;  but  thine  shall  endure  !  This  monument 
may  moulder  away ;  the  solid  ground  it  rests 
upon  may  sink  do\vn  to  a  level  with  the  sea  ;  but 
thy  memory  shall  not  fail !  Wheresoever  among 
men  a  heart  shall  be  found,  that  beats  to  the  trans 
ports  of  patriotism  and  liberty,  its  aspirations 
shall  be  to  claim  kindred  writh  thy  spirit ! 

But  the  scene  amidst  which  we  stand  does  not 
permit  us  to  confine  our  thoughts  or  our  sympa 
thies  to  those  fearless  spirits,  who  hazarded  or 
lost  their  lives  on  this  consecrated  spot.  We  have 
the  happiness  to  rejoice  here  in  the  presence  of  a 
most  worthy  representation  of  the  survivors  of  the 
whole  Revolutionary  Army. 

VETERANS  !  you  are  the  remnant  of  many  a 
well  fought  field-  You  bring  with  you  marks  of 
honor  from  Trenton  and  Monmouth,  from  York- 


16 

town,  Camden,  Bennington,  and  Saratoga.     VET- 

ERANS    OF  HALF  A  CENTURY  !    when  in  JOU1'  JOUtll- 

ful  days,  you  put  every  thing  at  hazard  in  your 
country's  cause,  good  as  that  cause  was,  and  san 
guine  as  youth  is,  still  your  fondest  hopes  did  not 
stretch  onward  to  an  hour  like  this  !  At  a 
period  to  which  you  could  not  reasonably  have 
expected  to  arrive  ;  at  a  moment  of  national 
prosperity,  such  as  you  could  never  have  foreseen, 
you  are  now  met,  here,  to  enjoy  the  fellowship  of 
old  soldiers,  and  to  receive  the  overflowings  of  an 
universal  gratitude. 

But  your  agitated  countenances  and  your  heav 
ing  breasts  inform  me  that  even  this  is  not  an  un 
mixed  joy.  I  perceive  that  a  tumult  of  contend 
ing  feelings  rushes  upon  you.  The  images  of  the 
dead,  as  well  as  the  persons  of  the  living,  throng 
to  your  embraces.  The  scene  overwhelms  you, 
and  I  turn  from  it.  May  the  Father  of  all  mer 
cies  smile  upon  your  declining  years,  and  bless 
them  !  And  when  you  shall  here  have  exchanged 
your  embraces  ;  when  you  shall  once  more  have 
pressed  the  hands  which  have  been  so  often  extend 
ed  to  give  succour  in  adversity,  or  grasped  in  the 
exultation  of  victory  ;  then  look  abroad  into  this 
lovely  land,  which  your  young  valor  defended,  and 


17 

mark  the  happiness  with  which  it  is  filled  ;  yea, 
look  abroad  into  the  whole  earth,  and  see  what  a 
name  you  have  contributed  to  give  to  your  coun 
try,  and  what  a  praise  you  have  added  to  free 
dom,  and  then  rejoice  in  the  sympathy  and  grati 
tude,  which  beam  upon  your  last  days  from  the 
improved  condition  of  mankind. 

The  occasion  does  not  require  of  me  any  partic 
ular  account  of  the  battle  of  the  17th  of  June,  nor 
any  detailed  narrative  of  the  events  which  imme 
diately  preceded  it.  These  are  familiarly  known 
to  all.  In  the  progress  of  the  great  and  interest 
ing  controversy,  Massachusetts  and  the  town  of 
Boston  had  become  early  and  marked  objects  of  the 
displeasure  of  the  British  Parliament.  This  had 
been  manifested,  in  the  Act  for  altering  the  Gov 
ernment  of  the  Province,  and  in  that  for  shutting 
up  the  Port  of  Boston.  Nothing  sheds  more  honor 
on  our  early  history,  and  nothing  better  shows  how 
little  the  feelings  and  sentiments  of  the  colonies 
were  known  or  regarded  in  England,  than  the 
impression  which  these  measures  every  where 
produced  in  America.  It  had  been  anticipated, 
that  while  the  other  colonies  would  be  terrified 
by  the  severity  of  the  punishment  inflicted  on 
3 


18 

Massachusetts,  the  other  seaports  would  be  gov 
erned  by  a  mere  spirit  of  gain  ;  and  that,  as  Bos 
ton  was  now  cut  off  from  all  commerce,  the  un 
expected  advantage,  which  this  blow  on  her  was 
calculated    to   confer  on  other   towns,  would   be 
greedily  enjoyed.     How  miserably   such  reason- 
ers  deceived  themselves  !     How  little  they  knew 
of  the  depth,  and  the  strength,  and  the  intense- 
ness   of  that  feeling   of  resistance  to  illegal  acts 
of  power,  which  possessed  the  whole  American 
people  !     Every  where  the  unworthy  boon  was  re 
jected  with  scorn.     The  fortunate  occasion  was 
seized,  every  where,  to  show  to  the  whole  world, 
that  the  colonies  were  swayed  by  no  local  mter- 
est,  no  partial  interest,  no  selfish  interest./  The 
temptation  to  profit  by  the  punishment  of  Boston 
was  strongest  to  our  neighbours  of  Salem.     Yet 
Salem  was  precisely  the  place,  where  this  misera 
ble  proffer  was    spurned,  in  a  tone   of  the   most 
lofty  self-respect,  and  the  most  indignant  patriot 
ism.      '  We   are  deeply  affected,'    said  its  inhabi 
tants,   '  with  the  sense  of  our  public  calamities  ; 
but  the  miseries  that  are  now  rapidly  hastening  on 
our  brethren  in  the  capital  of  the  Province,  greatly 
excite   our  commiseration.     By  shutting   up  the 
port  of  Boston,  some  imagine  that  the  course  of 


19 

trade  might  be   turned  hither  and  to  our  benefit  ; 
but  we  must  be  dead  to  every  idea  of  justice,  lost 
to  all  feelings    of  humanity,  could   we  indulge  a 
thought  to  seize  on  wealth,  and  raise  our  fortunes 
on  the  ruin  of  our  suffering  neighbours.'     These 
noble  sentiments  were  not  confined  to  our  imme 
diate  vicinity.     In  that  day  of  general    affection 
and  brotherhood,  the  blow  given  to  Boston  smote 
on  every  patriotic  heart,  from  one  end  of  the  coun 
try  to  the  other.     Virginia  and  the  Carolinas,  as 
well  as  Connecticut  and  New  Hampshire,  felt  and 
proclaimed  the  cause  to  be  their  own.     The  Con 
tinental  Congress,  then  holding  its  first  session  in 
Philadelphia,  expressed   its  sympathy  for  the  suf 
fering  inhabitants  of  Boston,  and  addresses  were 
received  from  all  quarters,  assuring  them  that  the 
cause  was  a   common  one,  and  should  be  met  by 
common    efforts    and    common    sacrifices.       The 
Congress    of   Massachusetts    responded   to  these 
assurances  ;  and   in  an  address   to  the  Congress 
at  Philadelphia,  bearing  the  official  signature,  per 
haps   among    the   last,   of  the  immortal  Warren, 
notwithstanding  the    seventy  of  its  suffering  and 
the  magnitude  of  the  dangers  which  threatened  it, 
it  was  declared,  that  this  colony   '  is  ready,  at  all 
times,  to  spend   and  to  be  spent  in  the  cause  of 
America. ? 


20 

But  the  hour  drew  nigh,  which  was  to  put  pro 
fessions  to  the  proof,  and  to  determine  whether 
the  authors  of  these  mutual  pledges  were  ready  to 
seal  them  in  blood.  The  tidings  of  Lexington 
and  Concord  had  no  sooner  spread,  than  it  was 
universally  felt,  that  the  time  was  at  last  come 
for  action.  A  spirit  pervaded  ail  ranks,  not 
transient,  not  boisterous,  but  deep,  solemn,  deter 
mined, 

*  totamque  infusa  per  artus 
&>    Mens  agitat  molem,  et  magno  se  corpore  miscet.' 

War,  on  their  own  soil  and  at  their  own  doors, 
was,  indeed,  a  strange  work  to  the  yeomanry  of 
New  England  ;  but  their  consciences  were  con 
vinced  of  its  necessity,  their  country  called  them 
to  it,  and  they  did  not  withhold  themselves  from 
the  perilous  trial.  The  ordinary  occupations  of 
life  were  abandoned  ;  the  plough  was  staid  in  the 
unfinished  furrow  ;  wives  gave  up  their  husbands, 
and  mothers  gave  up  their  sons,  to  the  battles  of  a 
civil  war.  Death  might  come,  in  honor,  on  the 
field  ;  it  might  come,  in  disgrace,  on  the  scaffold. 
For  either  and  for  both  they  were  prepared.  The 
sentiment  of  Quincy  was  full  in  their  hearts. 
i  Blandishments,'  said  that  distinguished  son  of 
genius  and  patriotism,  *  will  not  fascinate  us,  nor 


21 

will  threats  of  a  halter  intimidate  ;  for,  under  God, 
we  are  determined,  that  wheresoever,  whensoever, 
or  howsoever  we  shall  be  called  to  make  our  exit, 
we  will  die  free  men.' 

The  17th  of  June  saw  the  four  New  England 
colonies  standing  here,  side  by  side,  to  triumph  or 
to  fall  together  ;  and  there  was  with  them  from 
that  moment  to  the  end  of  the  war,  what  I  hope 
will  remain  with  them  forever,  one  cause,  one 
country,  one  heart. 

The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  attended  with 
the  most  important  effects  beyond  its  immediate 
result  as  a  military  engagement.  1  It  created  at 
once  a  state  of  open,  public  war.  There  could 
now  be  no  longer  a  question  of  proceeding  against 
individuals,  as  guilty  of  treason  or  rebellion. 
That  fearful  crisis  was  past.  The  appeal  now  lay 
to  the  sword,  and  the  only  question  was,  whether 
the  spirit  and  the  resources  of  the  people  would 
hold  out,  till  the  object  should  be  accomplished. 
Nor  were  its  general  consequences  confined  to  our 
own  country.  The  previous  proceedings  of  the 
colonies,  their  appeals,  resolutions,  and  addresses, 
had  made  their  cause  known  to  Europe.  Without 
boasting,  we  may  say,  that  in  no  age  or  country, 
has  the  public  cause  been  maintained  with  more 


22 

force  of  argument,  more  power  of  illustration,  or 
more  of  that  persuasion  which  excited  feeling  and 
elevated  principle  can  alone  bestow,  than  the 
revolutionary  state  papers  exhibit.  These  papers 
will  forever  deserve  to  be  studied,  not  only  for 
the  spirit  which  they  breathe,  but  for  the  ability 
with  which  they  were  written. 

To  this  able  vindication  of  their  cause,  the 
colonies  had  now  added  a  practical  and  severe  proof 
of  their  own  true  devotion  to  it,  and  evidence  also 
of  the  power  which  they  could  bring  to  its  support. 
All  now  saw,  that  if  America  fell,  she  would 
not  fall  without  a  struggle.  Men  felt  sympathy 
and  regard,  as  well  as  surprise,  when  they  beheld 
these  infant  states,  remote,  unknown,  unaided, 
encounter  the  power  of  England,  and  in  the  first 
considerable  battle,  leave  more  of  their  enemies 
dead  on  the  field,  in  proportion  to  the  number  of 
combatants,  than  they  had  recently  known  in  the 
wars  of  Europe. 

Information  of  these  events,  circulating  through 
Europe,  at  length  reached  the  ears  of  one  who 
now  hears  me.  He  has  not  forgotten  the  emotion, 
which  the  fame  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  the  name  of 
Warren,  excited  in  his  youthful  breast. 


23 

SIR,  we  are  assembled  to  commemorate  the 
establishment  of  great  public  principles  of  liberty, 
and  to  do  honor  to  the  distinguished  dead.  The 
occasion  is  too  severe  for  eulogy  to  the  living. 
But,  sir,  your  interesting  relation  to  this  country, 
the  peculiar  circumstances  which  surround  you 
and  surround  us,  call  on  me  to  express  the  happi 
ness  which  we  derive  from  your  presence  and  aid 
in  this  solemn  commemoration. 

Fortunate,  fortunate  man  !  with  what  measure 
of  devotion  will  you  not  thank  God,  for  the  cir 
cumstances  of  your  extraordinary  life  !  You  are 
connected  with  both  hemispheres  and  with  two 
generations.  Heaven  saw  fit  to  ordain,  that  the 
electric  spark  of  Liberty  should  be  conducted, 
through  you,  from  the  new  world  to  the  old  ;  and 
we,  who  are  now  here  to  perform  this  duty  of 
patriotism,  have  all  of  us  long  ago  received  it  in 
charge  from  our  fathers  to  cherish  your  name  and 
your  virtues.  You  will  account  it  an  instance  of 
your  good  fortune,  sir,  that  you  crossed  the  seas  to 
visit  us  at  a  time  which  enables  you  to  be  present 
at  this  solemnity.  You  now  behold  the  field,  the 
renown  of  which  reached  you  in  the  heart  of 
France,  and  caused  a  thrill  in  your  ardent  bosom. 
You  see  the  lines  of  the  little  redoubt  thrown  up 


24 

by  the  incredible  diligence  of  Prescott ;  defended, 
to  the  last  extremity,  by  his  lion-hearted  valor ; 
and  within  which  the  corner  stone  of  our  monu 
ment  has  now  taken  its  position.  You  see  where 
Warren  fell,  and  where  Parker,  Gardner,  McClea- 
ry,  Moore,  and  other  early  patriots  fell  with  him. 
Those  who  survived  that  day,  and  whose  lives 
have  been  prolonged  to  the  present  hour,  are  now 
around  you.  Some  of  them  you  have  known  in 
the  trying  scenes  of  the  war.  Behold  !  they  now 
stretch  forth  their  feeble  arms  to  embrace  you. 
Behold  !  they  raise  their  trembling  voices  to  in 
voke  the  blessing  of  God  on  you,  and  yours,  forever. 
Sir,  you  have  assisted  us  in  laying  the  founda 
tion  of  this  edifice.  You  have  heard  us  rehearse, 
with  our  feeble  commendation,  the  names  of  de 
parted  patriots.  Sir,  monuments  and  eulogy 
belong  to  the  dead.  We  give  them,  this  day,  to 
Warren  and  his  associates.  On  other  occasions 
they  have  been  given  to  your  more  immediate 
companions  in  arms,  to  Washington,  to  Greene, 
to  Gates,  Sullivan,  and  Lincoln.  Sir,  we  have 
become  reluctant  to  grant  these,  our  highest  and 
last  honors,  further.  We  would  gladly  hold 
them  yet  back  from  the  little  remnant  of  that 
immortal  band.  Serus  in  cesium  redeas.  Illus- 


25 

trious  as  are  your  merits,  yet  far,  oh,  very  far 
distant  be  the  day,  when  any  inscription  shall 
bear  your  name,  or  any  tongue  pronounce  its- 
eulogy  ! 


The  leading  reflection,  to  which  this  occasion 
seems  to  invite  us,  respects  the  great  changes 
which  have  happened  in  the  fifty  years,  since  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  fought.  And  it  pecu 
liarly  marks  the  character  of  the  present  age,  that, 
in  looking  at  these  changes,  and  in  estimating  their 
effect  on  our  condition,  we  are  obliged  to  consider, 
not  what  has  been  done  in  our  own  country  only, 
but  in  others  also.  In  these  interesting  times, 
while  nations  are  making  separate  and  individual 
advances  in  improvement,  they  make,  too,  a  com 
mon  progress  ;  like  vessels  on  a  common  tide, 
propelled  by  the  gales  at  different  rates,  ac 
cording  to  their  several  structure  and  manage 
ment,  but  all  moved  forward  by  one  mighty 
current  beneath,  strong  enough  to  bear  onward 
whatever  does  not  sink  beneath  it. 

A  chief  distinction  of  the  present  day  is  a  com 
munity  of  opinions  and  knowledge  amongst  men, 
in  different  nations,  existing  in  a  degree  hereto 
fore  unknown.  Knowledge  has,  in  our  time,  tri- 
4 


26 

urnphed,  and  is  triumphing,  over  distance,  over 
difference  of  languages,  over  diversity  of  habits, 
over  prejudice,  and  over  bigotry.  The  civilized 
and  Christian  world  is  fast  learning  the  great  les 
son,  that  difference  of  nation  does  not  imply  ne 
cessary  hostility,  and  that  all  contact  need  not  be 
war.  The  whole  world  is  becoming  a  common 
field  for  intellect  to  act  in.  Energy  of  mind,  ge 
nius,  power,  wheresoever  it  exists,  may  speak  out 
in  any  tongue,  and  the  world  will  hear  it.  A 
great  chord  of  sentiment  and  feeling  runs  through 
two  continents,  and  vibrates  over  both.  Every 
breeze  wafts  intelligence  from  country  to  country  ; 
every  wave  rolls  it ;  all  give  it  forth,  and  all  in 
turn  receive  it.  There  is  a  vast  commerce  of 
ideas  ;  there  are  marts  and  exchanges  for  intellec 
tual  discoveries,  and  a  wonderful  fellowship  of 
those  individual  intelligences  which  make  up  the 
mind  and  opinion  of  the  age.  Mind  is  the  great 
lever  of  all  things  ;  human  thought  is  the  pro 
cess  by  which  human  ends  are  ultimately  an 
swered  ;  and  the  diffusion  of  knowledge,  so  aston 
ishing  in  the  last  half  century,  has  rendered  innu 
merable  minds,  variously  gifted  by  nature,  com 
petent  to  be  competitors,  or  fellow-workers,  on  the 
theatre  of  intellectual  operation. 


27 

From  these  causes,  important  improvements 
have  taken  place  in  the  personal  condition  of  in 
dividuals.  Generally  speaking,  mankind  are  not 
only  better  fed,  and  better  clothed,  but  they 
are  able  also  to  enjoy  more  leisure  ;  they  possess 
more  refinement  and  more  self-respect.  A  supe 
rior  tone  of  education,  manners,  and  habits  pre 
vails.  This  remark,  most  true  in  its  application 
to  our  own  country,  is  also  partly  true,  when 
applied  elsewhere.  It  is  proved  by  the  vastly 
augmented  consumption  of  those  articles  of  manu 
facture  and  of  commerce,  which  contribute  to  the 
comforts  and  the  decencies  of  life  ;  an  augmenta 
tion  which  has  far  outrun  the  progress  of  popula 
tion.  And  while  the  unexampled  and  almost  in 
credible  use  of  machinery  would  seem  to  supply 
the  place  of  labor,  labor  still  finds  its  occupation 
and  its  reward  ;  so  wisely  has  Providence  adjusted 
men's  wants  and  desires  to  their  condition  and 
their  capacity. 

Any  adequate  survey,  however,  of  the  progress 
made  in  the  last  half  century,  in  the  polite  and  the 
mechanic  arts,  in  machinery  and  manufactures,  in 
commerce  and  agriculture,  in  letters  and  in  science, 
would  require  volumes.  I  must  abstain  wholly  from 
these  subjects,  and  turn,  for  a  moment,  to  the  con- 


templation  of  what  has  been  done  on  the  great  ques 
tion  of  politics  and  government.  This  is  the  master 
topic  of  the  age  ;  and  during  the  whole  fifty  years, 
it  has  intensely  occupied  the  thoughts  of  men. 
The  nature  of  civil  government,  its  ends  and  uses, 
have  been  canvassed  and  investigated  ;  ancient 
opinions  attacked  and  defended  ;  new  ideas  re 
commended  and  resisted,  by  whatever  power  the 
mind  of  man  could  bring  to  the  controversy.  From 
the  closet  and  the  public  halls  the  debate  has  been 
transferred  to  the  field ;  and  the  world  has  been 
shaken  by  wars  of  unexampled  magnitude,  and 
the  greatest  variety  of  fortune.  A  day  of  peace 
has  at  length  succeeded  ;  and  now  that  the  strife 
has  subsided,  and  the  smoke  cleared  away,  we 
may  begin  to  see  what  has  actually  been  done, 
permanently  changing  the  state  and  condition  of 
human  society.  And  without  dwelling  on  parti 
cular  circumstances,  it  is  most  apparent,  that,  from 
the  beforementioned  causes  of  augmented  know 
ledge  and  improved  individual  condition,  a  real, 
substantial,  and  important  change  has  taken  place, 
and  is  taking  place,  greatly  beneficial,  on  the 
whole,  to  human  liberty  and  human  happiness. 

The  great  wheel  of  political   revolution   began 
to  move  in  America.    Here  its  rotation  was  guard- 


29 

ed,  regular,  and  safe.  Transferred  to  the  other 
continent,  from  unfortunate  but  natural  causes, 
it  received  an  irregular  and  violent  impulse  ;  it 
whirled  along  with  a  fearful  celerity  ;  till  at  length, 
like  the  chariot  wheels  in  the  races  of  antiquity, 
it  took  fire  from  the  rapidity  of  its  own  motion, 
and  blazed  onward,  spreading  conflagration  and 
terror  around. 

We  learn  from  the  result  of  this  experiment, 
how  fortunate  was  our  own  condition,  and  how 
admirably  the  character  of  our  people  was  cal 
culated  for  making  the  great  example  of  po 
pular  governments.  The  possession  of  power 
did  not  turn  the  heads  of  the  American  people, 
for  they  had  long  been  in  the  habit  of  exercising 
a  great  portion  of  self-control.  Although  the  pa 
ramount  authority  of  the  parent  state  existed  over 
them,  yet  a  large  field  of  legislation  had  always 
been  open  to  our  colonial  assemblies.  They  were 
accustomed  to  representative  bodies  and  the  forms 
of  free  government ;  they  understood  the  doctrine  of 
the  division  of  power  among  different  branches, 
and  the  necessity  of  checks  on  each.  The  cha 
racter  of  our  countrymen,  moreover,  was  sober, 
moral,  and  religious ;  and  there  was  little  in  the 
change  to  shock  their  feelings  of  justice  and  hu- 


30 

manity,  or  even  to  disturb  an  honest  prejudice. 
We  had  no  domestic  throne  to  overturn,  no  privi 
leged  orders  to  cast  down,  no  violent  changes  of 
property  to  encounter.  In  the  American  Revolu 
tion,  no  man  sought  or  wished  for  more  than  to 
defend  and  enjoy  his  own.  None  hoped  for  plun 
der  or  for  spoil.  Rapacity  was  unknown  to  it ; 
the  axe  was  not  among  the  instruments  of  its  ac 
complishment  ;  and  we  all  know  that  it  could  not 
have  lived  a  single  day  under  any  well  founded 
imputation  of  possessing  a  tendency  adverse  to  the 
Christian  religion. 

It  need  not  surprise  us,  that,  under  circum 
stances  less  auspicious,  political  revolutions  else 
where,  even  when  well  intended,  have  terminated 
differently.  It  is,  indeed,  a  great  achievement, 
it  is  the  master  work  of  the  world,  to  establish 
governments  entirely  popular,  on  lasting  founda 
tions  ;  nor  is  it  easy,  indeed,  to  introduce  the 
popular  principle  at  all,  into  governments  to  which 
it  has  been  altogether  a  stranger.  It  cannot  be 
doubted,  however,  that  Europe  has  come  out  of 
the  contest,  in  which  she  has  been  so  long  en 
gaged,  with  greatly  superior  knowledge,  and, 
in  many  respects,  a  highly  improved  condition. 
Whatever  benefit  has  been  acquired,  is  likely  to 


31 

be  retained,  for  it  consists  mainly  in  the  acquisi 
tion  of  more  enlightened  ideas.  And  although 
kingdoms  and  provinces  may  be  wrested  from  the 
hands  that  hold  them,  in  the  same  manner  they 
were  obtained  ;  although  ordinary  and  vulgar 
power  may,  in  human  affairs,  be  lost  as  it  has 
been  won ;  yet  it  is  the  glorious  prerogative  of  the 
empire  of  knowledge,  that  wrhat  it  gains  it  never 
loses.  On  the  contrary,  it  increases  by  the  mul 
tiple  of  its  own  power  ;  all  its  ends  become  means ; 
all  its  attainments,  helps  to  new  conquests.  Its 
whole  abundant  harvest  is  but  so  much  seed  wheat, 
and  nothing  has  ascertained,  and  nothing  can  as 
certain,  the  amount  of  ultimate  product. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  rapidly  increasing 
knowledge,  the  people  have  begun,  in  all  forms  of 
government,  to  think,  and  to  reason,  on  affairs  of 
state.  Regarding  government  as  an  institution 
for  the  public  good,  they  demand  a  knowledge  of 
its  operations,  and  a  participation  in  its  exercise. 
A  call  for  the  Representative  system,  wherever  it 
is  not  enjoyed,  and  where  there  is  already  intelli 
gence  enough  to  estimate  its  value,  is  persevering- 
ly  made.  Where  men  may  speak  out,  they  de 
mand  it ;  where  the  bayonet  is  at  their  throats* 
they  pray  for  it. 


32 

When  Louis  XIV.  said,  "I  am  the  state," 
he  expressed  the  essence  of  the  doctrine  of  unlim 
ited  power.  By  the  rules  of  that  system,  the 
people  are  disconnected  from  the  state  ;  they  are 
its  subjects;  it  is  their  lord.  These  ideas,  found 
ed  in  the  love  of  power,  and  long  supported  by 
the  excess  and  the  abuse  of  it,  are  yielding,  in 
our  age,  to  other  opinions ;  and  the  civilized 
world  seems  at  last  to  be  proceeding  to  the  con 
viction  of  that  fundamental  and  manifest  truth, 
that  the  powers  of  government  are  but  a  trust, 
and  that  they  cannot  be  lawfully  exercised  but  for 
the  good  of  the  community.  As  knowledge  is 
more  and  more  extended,  this  conviction  becomes 
more  and  more  general.  Knowledge,  in  truth,  is 
the  great  sun  in  the  firmament.  Life  and  power 
are  scattered  with  all  its  beams.  The  prayer  of 
the  Grecian  combatant,  when  enveloped  in  un 
natural  clouds  and  darkness,  is  the  appropriate 
political  supplication  for  the  people  of  every  coun 
try  not  yet  blessed  with  free  institutions  ; 

(  Dispel  this  cloud,  the  light  of  heaven  restore, 
Give  me  TO  SEE  —  and  Ajax  asks  no  more.' 

We  may  hope,  that  the  growing  influence  of  en 
lightened  sentiments  will  promote  the  permanent 
peace  of  the  world.:  Wars,  to  maintain  family 


33 

alliances,  to  uphold  or  to  cast  down  dynasties,  to 
regulate  successions  to  thrones,  which  have  occu 
pied  so  much  room  in  the  history  of  modern  times, 
if  not  less  likely  to  happen  at  all,  will  be  less 
likely  to  become  general  and  involve  many  na 
tions,  as  the  great  principle  shall  be  more  and 

more  established,  that  the  interest  of  the  world  is 

l 

peace,  and  its  first  great  statute,  that  every  nation 
possesses  the  power  of  establishing  a  government 
for  itself.  But  public  opinion  has  attained  also 
an  influence  over  governments,  which  do  not 
admit  the  popular  principle  into  their  organization. 
A  necessary  respect  for  the  judgment  of  the  world 
operates,  in  some  measure,  as  a  control  over  the 
most  unlimited  forms  of  authority.  It  is  owing, 
perhaps,  to  this  truth,  that  the  interesting  struggle 
of  the  Greeks  has  been  suffered  to  go  on  so  long, 
without  a  direct  interference,  either  to  wrest  that 
country  from  its  present  masters,  and  add  it  to 
other  powers,  or  to  execute  the  system  of  pacifi 
cation  by  force,  and,  with  united  strength,  lay  the 
neck  of  Christian  and  civilized  Greece  at  the  foot 
of  the  barbarian  Turk.  Let  us  thank  God  that 
we  live  in  an  age,  when  something  has  influence 
besides  the  bayonet,  and  when  the  sternest  author 
ity  does  not  venture  to  encounter  the  scorching 
5 


34 

power  of  public  reproach.  Any  attempt  of  the 
kind  I  have  mentioned,  should  be  met  by  one 
universal  burst  of  indignation  ;  the  air  of  the  civil 
ized  world  ought  to  be  made  too  warm  to  be 
comfortably  breathed  by  any  who  would  hazard 
it. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  touching  reflection,  that  while, 
in  the  fulness  of  our  country's  happiness,  we  rear 
this  monument  to  her  honor,  we  look  for  instruc 
tion,  in  our  undertaking,  to  a  country  which  is 
now  in  fearful  contest,  not  for  works  of  art  or 
memorials  of  glory,  but  for  her  own  existence. 
Let  her  be  assured,  that  she  is  not  forgotten  in 
the  world  ;  that  her  efforts  are  applauded,  and 
that  constant  prayers  ascend  for  her  success. 
And  let  us  cherish  a  confident  hope  for  her  final 
triumph.  If  the  true  spark  of  religious  and  civil 
liberty  be  kindled,  it  will  burn.  Human  agency 
cannot  extinguish  it.  Like  the  earth's  central 
fire  it  may  be  smothered  for  a  time  ;  the  ocean 
may  overwhelm  it ;  mountains  may  press  it  down  ; 
but  its  inherent  and  unconquerable  force  will 
heave  both  the  ocean  and  the  land,  and  at  some 
time  or  another,  in  some  place  or  another,  the  vol 
cano  will  break  out  and  flame  up  to  heaven. 


35 

Among  the  great  events  of  the  half  century, 
we  must  reckon,  certainly,  the  Revolution  of 
South  America  ;  and  we  are  not  likely  to  over 
rate  the  importance  of  that  Revolution,  either  to 
the  people  of  the  country  itself  or  to  the  rest  of 
the  world.  The  late  Spanish  colonies,  now  inde 
pendent  states,  under  circumstances  less  favorable, 
doubtless,  than  attended  our  own  Revolution, 
have  yet  successfully  commenced  their  national 
existence.  They  have  accomplished  the  great 
object  of  establishing  their  independence  ;  they 
are  known  and  acknowledged  in  the  world  ;  and 
although  in  regard  to  their  systems  of  government, 
their  sentiments  on  religious  toleration,  and  their 
provisions  for  public  instruction,  they  may  have 
yet  much  to  learn,  it  must  be  admitted  that  they 
have  risen  to  the  condition  of  settled  and  estab 
lished  states,  more  rapidly  than  could  have  been 
reasonably  anticipated.  They  already  furnish  an 
exhilirating  example  of  the  difference  between 
free  governments  and  despotic  misrule.  Their 
commerce,  at  this  moment,  creates  a  new  activity 
in  all  the  great  marts  of  the  world.  They  show 
themselves  able,  by  an  exchange  of  commodities, 
to  bear  an  useful  part  in  the  intercourse  of  nations. 


36 

A  ne\v  spirit  of  enterprise  and  industry  begins  to 
prevail  ;  all  the  great  interests  of  society  receive 
a  salutary  impulse  ;  and  the  progress  of  informa 
tion  not  only  testifies  to  an  improved  condition, 
but  constitutes,  itself,  the  highest  and  most  essen 
tial  improvement. 

When  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  fought, 
the  existence  of  South  America  was  scarcely  felt 
in  the  civilized  world.  The  thirteen  little  colo 
nies  of  North  America  habitually  called  them 
selves  the  i  Continent.'  Borne  down  by  colonial 
subjugation,  monopoly,  and  bigotry,  these  vast 
regions  of  the  South  were  hardly  visible  above 
the  horizon.  But  in  our  day  there  hath  been,  as  it 
were,  a  new  creation.  The  Southern  Hemisphere 
emerges  from  the  sea.  Its  lofty  mountains  begin 
to  lift  themselves  into  the  light  of  heaven  ;  its 
broad  and  fertile  plains  stretch  out,  in  beauty,  to 
the  eye  of  civilized  man,  and  at  the  mighty 
bidding  of  the  voice  of  political  liberty  the  waters 
of  darkness  retire. 

And,  now,  let  us  indulge  an  honest  exultation 
in  the  conviction  of  the  benefit,  which  the  exam 
ple  of  our  country  has  produced,  and  is  likely 


37 

to  produce,  on  human  freedom  and  human  hap 
piness.  And  let  us  endeavour  to  comprehend, 
in  all  its  magnitude,  and  to  feel,  in  all  its  im 
portance,  the  part  assigned  to  us  in  the  great 
drama  of  human  affairs.  We  are  placed  at  the 
head  of  the  system  of  representative  and  pop 
ular  governments.  Thus  far  our  example  shows, 
that  such  governments  are  compatible,  not  only 
with  respectability  and  power,  but  with  repose, 
with  peace,  with  security  of  personal  rights,  with 
good  laws,  and  a  just  administration. 

We  are  not  propagandists.  Wherever  other 
systems  are  preferred,  either  as  being  thought  bet 
ter  in  themselves,  or  as  better  suited  to  existing 
condition,  we  leave  the  preference  to  be  enjoyed. 
Our  history  hitherto  proves,  however,  that  the 
popular  form  is  practicable,  and  that  with  wisdom 
and  knowledge  men  may  govern  themselves ;  and 
the  duty  incumbent  on  us  is,  to  preserve  the  con 
sistency  of  this  cheering  example,  and  take  care 
that  nothing  may  weaken  its  authority  with  the 
world.  If,  in  our  case,  the  Representative  sys 
tem  ultimately  fail,  popular  governments  must  be 
pronounced  impossible.  No  combination  of  cir 
cumstances  more  favorable  to  the  experiment  can 


38 

ever  be  expected  to  occur.  The  last  hopes  of 
mankind,  therefore,  rest  with  us  ;  and  if  it  should 
be  proclaimed,  that  our  example  had  become  an 
argument  against  the  experiment,  the  knell  of  pop 
ular  liberty  would  be  sounded  throughout  the 
earth. 

These  are  excitements  to  duty  ;  but  they  are 
not  suggestions  of  doubt.  Our  history  and  our 
condition,  all  that  is  gone  before  us,  and  all  that 
surrounds  us,  authorize  the  belief,  that  popular 
governments,  though  subject  to  occasional  varia 
tions,  perhaps  not  always  for  the  better,  in  form, 
may  yet,  in  their  general  character,  be  as  durable 
and  permanent  as  other  systems.  We  know,  in 
deed,  that,  in  our  country,  any  other  is  impossible. 
The  Principle  of  Free  Governments  adheres  to 
the  American  soil.  It  is  bedded  in  it ;  immovable 
as  its  mountains. 

^And  let  the  sacred  obligations  which  have  de 
volved  on  this  generation,  and  on  us,  sink  deep 
into  our  hearts.  Those  are  daily  dropping  from 
among  us,  who  established  our  liberty  and  our 
government.  The  great  trust  now  descends  to 
new  hands.  Let  us  apply  ourselves  to  that  which 
is  presented  to  us,  as  our  appropriate  object.  We 


39 

can   win  no  laurels   in  a  war  for  Independence. 
Earlier  and  worthier  hands  have   gathered   them 
all.     Nor  are  there  places   for  us  by  the  side  of 
Solon,  and  Alfred,  and  other   founders  of  states. 
Our  fathers  have  filled  them.      But  there  remains 
to  us  a  great  duty   of  defence  and   preservation ; 
and  there  is  opened  to  us,  also,  a  noble  pursuit,  to 
which  the  .spirit  of  the  times  strongly   invites    us. 
Our  proper  business  is  improvement.    .  Let    our 
age  be  the   age  of  improvement.  '  In  a  day  of 
peace,  let  us  advance   the  arts   of  peace   and  the 
works  of  peace.      Let  us  develop  the  resources  of 
our   land,  call  forth  its  powers,  build  up  its  insti 
tutions,  promote  all  its   great  interests,  and   see 
whether  we  also,  in  our  day  and  generation,  may 
not  perform  something  worthy  to  be  remembered. 
Let  us  cultivate  a  true  spirit  of  union  and  harmo 
ny.      In  pursuing   the  great  objects,   which  our 
condition  points  out  to  us,  let  us  act  under  a  set 
tled  conviction,  and  an  habitual  feeling,  that  these 
twenty-four  states  are  one  country.     Let  our  con 
ceptions  be  enlarged  to  the  circle  of  our  duties. 
Let  us  extend  our  ideas  over  the  whole  of  the  vast 
field  in  which  we  are  called  to  act.     Let  our  ob- 
ject   be,    OUR  COUNTRY,  OUR  WHOLE  COUNTRY, 


40 

AND  NOTHING  BUT  OUR  COUNTRY.  And,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  may  that  country  itself  become  a 
vast  and  splendid  Monument,  not  of  oppression 
and  terror,  but  of  Wisdom,  of  Peace,  and  of 
Liberty,  upon  which  the  world  may  gaze,  with 
admiration,  forever ! 


OUTLINES 


OF 


THE  PRINCIPAL  EVENTS  IN  THE  LIFE 


OP 


GENERAL  LAFAYETTE. 


FROM  THE 


NORTH  AMERICAN  REVIEW. 


BOSTON  : 

PUBLISHED  BY  CUMMINGS,  HILLTARD,  &  CO. 

1825. 


The  following  notice  of  the  Life  of  General  Lafayette  was 
originally  printed  in  the  forty  sixth  number  of  the  North 
American  Review.  It  is  now  reprinted  with  a  few  alterations 
and  a  considerable  number  of  additions. 


CAMBRIDGE  : — Hilliard  ft  Metcalf. 


OUTLINES. 


THE   family   of   General    Lafayette  has   long 
been  distinguished  in  the  history  of  France.     As 
early  as  1422,  the  Marshal  de  Lafayette  defeated 
and   killed  the    Duke  of  Clarence  at  Beauge,  and 
thus  saved   his   country    from    falling  entirely  into 
the  power  of  Henry  Fifth,  of  England.     Another 
of   his   ancestors,  though   not   in   the   direct   line, 
Madame  de   Lafayette,    the    intimate    friend    and 
correspondent  of  Madame  de  Sevigne,  and  one  of 
the  most  brilliant  ornaments  of  the  court  of  Louis 
Fourteenth,  was  the  first  person  who  ever  wrote  a 
romance,  relying  for  its  success  on  domestic  char 
acter,  and    thus    became  the   founder  of  the  most 
popular    department    in    modern  literature.      His 
father  fell  in  the  battle  of  Munden,  and    therefore 
survived    the    birth  of    his    son    only    two   years. 
These,  with  many  more  memorials  of  his   family. 


scattered  through  the  different  portions  of  French 
history  for  nearly  five  centuries,  are  titles  to  dis 
tinction,  which  it  is  particularly  pleasant  to  recol 
lect  when  they  fall,  as  they  now  do,  on  one  so 
singularly  fitted  to  receive  and  increase  them. 

General   Lafayette  himself  was  born   in   Au- 
vergne,  in  the   south  of  France,    on  the   6th  of 
September,    1757.      When  quite  young,   he  was 
sent  to  the  College  of  Du  Plessis  at  Paris,  where 
he   received   that    classical   education,    of   which, 
when  recently  at   Cambridge,  he  twice   gave   re 
markable  proof  in  uncommonly  happy  quotations 
from  Cicero,  suited  to  circumstances  that  could  not 
have  been  foreseen.     Somewhat  later,  he  was  sent 
to  Versailles,  where  the  court  constantly  resided  ; 
and  there  his  education  was  still  further  continued, 
and  he   was  made,  in  common  with   most  of  the 
young   noblemen,  an  officer  in  the  army.     When 
only  between  sixteen  and   seventeen,  he  was  mar 
ried  to   the  daughter  of  the  Duke  d'Ayen,  son  of 
the  Duke  de  Noailles,  and   grandson  to   the  great 
and   good  Chancellor  d'Aguesseau  ;  and   thus  his 
condition    in   life  seemed   to    be    assured   to  him 
among  the  most  splendid  and  powerful  in  the  em 
pire.     His  fortune,  which  had   been  accumulating 
during  a   long   minority,  was  vast ;  his  rank  was 
with  the  first  in  Europe  ;  his  connexions  brought 
him  the   support  of  the  chief  persons  in  France  : 


and  his  individual  character,  the  warm,  open, 
and  sincere  manners,  which  have  distinguished 
him  ever  since,  and  given  him  such  singular  con 
trol  over  the  minds  of  men,  made  him  powerful  in 
the  confidence  of  society  wherever  he  went.  It 
seemed,  indeed,  as  if  life  had  nothing  further  to 
offer  him,  than  he  could  surely  obtain  by  walk 
ing  in  the  path  that  was  so  bright  before  him. 

It  was  at  this  period,  however,  that  his  thoughts 
and  feelings  were  first  turned  towards  these  thir 
teen  colonies,  then  in  the  darkest  and  most  doubt 
ful  passage  of  their  struggle  for  independence. 
He  made  himself  acquainted  with  our  agents  at 
Paris,  and  learned  from  them  the  state  of  our  affairs. 
Nothing  could  be  less  tempting  to  him,  whether 
he  sought  military  reputation  or  military  instruc 
tion,  for  our  army,  at  that  moment  retreating  through 
New  Jersey,  and  leaving  its  traces  in  blood  from 
the  naked  and  torn  feet  of  the  soldiery  as  it  hasten 
ed  onward,  was  in  a  state  too  humble  to  offer  either. 
Our  credit,  too,  in  Europe  was  entirely  gone,  so 
that  the  commissioners,  as  they  were  called,  with 
out  having  any  commission,  to  whom  Lafayette 
still  persisted  in  offering  his  services,  were  obliged, 
at  last,  to  acknowledge  that  they  could  not  even 
give  him  decent  means  for  his  conveyance. 
"  Then,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  purchase  and  fit  out  a 
vessel  for  myself."  He  did  so.  The  vessel  was 


prepared  at  Bordeaux,  and  sent  round  to  one  of 
the  nearest  ports  in  Spain,  that  it  might  be  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  French  government.  In  order 
more  effectually  to  conceal  his  purposes,  he  made, 
just  before  his  embarkation,  a  visit  of  a  few  weeks 
in  England,  the  only  time  he  was  ever  there,  and 
was  much  sought  in  English  society.  On  his 
return  to  France,  he  did  not  stop  at  all  in  the  cap 
ital,  even  to  see  his  own  family,  but  hastened  with 
all  speed  and  secrecy,  to  make  good  his  escape 
from  the  country.  It  was  not  until  he  was  thus 
on  his  way  to  embark,  that  his  romantic  under 
taking  began  to  be  known. 

The  effect  produced  in  the  capital  and  at  court 
by  its  publication,  was  greater  than  we  should 
now,  perhaps,  imagine.  Lord  Stormont,  the  Eng 
lish  Ambassador,  required  the  French  ministry  to 
despatch  an  order  for  his  arrest  not  only  to  Bor 
deaux,  but  to  the  French  commanders  on  the 
West  India  station  ;  a  requisition  with  which  the 
ministry  readily  complied,  for  they  were,  at  that 
time,  anxious  to  preserve  a  good  understanding 
with  England,  and  were  seriously  angry  with  a 
young  man,  who  had  thus  put  in  jeopardy  the  re 
lations  of  the  two  countries.  In  fact,  at  Passage, 
on  the  very  borders  of  France  and  Spain,  a  lettre 
de  cachet  overtook  him,  and  he  was  arrested  and 
carried  back  to  Bordeaux.  There,  of  course,  his 


enterprise  was  near  being  finally  stopped  ;  but 
'watching  his  opportunity,  and  assisted  by  one  or 
two  friends,  he  disguised  himself  as  a  courier, 
with  his  face  blacked  and  false  hair,  and  rode  on 
ordering  post-horses,  for  a  carriage  which  he  had 
caused  to  follow  him  at  a  suitable  distance  for  this 
very  purpose,  and  thus  fairly  passed  the  frontiers  of 
the  two  kingdoms,  only  three  or  four  hours  before 
his  pursuers  reached  them.  He  soon  arrived  at  his 
port,  where  his  vessel  was  waiting  for  him.  His 
family,  however,  still  followed  him  with  solicita 
tions  to  return,  which  he  never  received  ;  and  the 
society  of  the  court  and  capital,  according  to  Mad 
ame  du  Deffand's  account  of  it,  was  in  no  common 
state  of  excitement  on  the  occasion.*  Something 

*  De  tous  les  departs  presents,  celui  qui  est  le  plus  singu- 
lier  et  le  plus  etonnant,  c'est  celui  de  M.  de  Lafayette.  II  n'a 
pas  vingt  ans  ;  il  est  parti  ces  jours-cji  pour  PAmerique ;  il 
emmene  avec  lui  huit  ou  (fix  de  ses  amis;  il  n'avait  confie  son  v 
projet  qu'  au  Vicomte  de  Noailles,  sous  le  plus  grand  secret ; 
il  a  achete  un  vaisseau,  Pa  equipe,  et  s'  est  embarque  &  Bor 
deaux.  Sit6t  que  ses  parents  en  ont  eu  la  nouvelle,  ils  ont 
fait  courir  apres  lui  pour  1'  arr6ter  et  le  ramener  ;  mais  on  est 
arrive  trop  tard,  il  y  avait  trois  heures  qu'  il  etait  embarque. 
C'est  une  folie,  sans  doute,  mais  qui  ne  le  deshonore  point,  et 
qui  an  contrairc  marque  du  courage  et  du  desir  dc  la  gloire. 
On  le  loue  plus  qu'  on  le  blame  ;  mais  sa  femme,  qu'  il  laisse 
tjrosse  de  quatre  mois,  son  beau-pcre,  sa  belle-mere,  et  toute 
sa  famille  en  sont  fort  affliges.  Lettrc  de  Mad.  du  Drfand 
cL  H.  Walpole,  31  Mars,  1777- 


8 

of  the  same  sort  happened  in  London.  "  We  talk 
chiefly,"  says  Gibbon  in  a  letter  dated  April  12, 
1777,  "  of  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette,  who  was 
here  a  few  weeks  ago.  He  is  about  twenty  ; 
with  a  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  livres  a  year, 
the  nephew  of  Noailles,  who  is  ambassador  here. 
He  has  bought  the  Duke  of  Kingston's  yacht,  [a 
mistake]  and  is  gone  to  join  the  Americans.  The 
court  appear  to  be  angry  with  him." 

Immediately  on  arriving  the  second  time 
at  Passage,  the  wind  being  fair,  he  embarked. 
The  usual  course  for  French  vessels  attempting  to 
trade  with  our  colonies  at  that  period,  was,  to  sail 
for  the  West  Indies,  and  then  coming  up  along  our 
coast,  enter  where  they  could.  But  this  course 
would  have  exposed  Lafayette  to  the  naval  com 
manders  of  his  own  nation,  and  he  had  almost  as 
much  reason  to  dread  them,  as  to  dread  British 
cruisers.  When,  therefore,  they  were  outside  of 
the  Canary  Islands,  Lafayette  required  his  cap 
tain  to  lay  their  course  directly  for  the  United 
States.  The  captain  refused,  alleging,  that  if 
they  should  be  taken  by  a  British  force  and  carri 
ed  into  Halifax,  the  French  government  would 
never  reclaim  them,  and  they  could  hope  for  noth 
ing  but  a  slow  death  in  a  dungeon  or  a  prison-ship. 
This  was  true,  but  Lafayette  knew  it  before  he 
made  the  requisition.  He,  therefore,  insisted  un- 


9 

til  the  captain  refused  in  the  most  positive  manner. 
Lafayette  then  told  him  that  the  ship  was  his  own 
private  property,  that  he  had  made  his  own 
arrangements  concerning  it,  and  that  if  he,  the 
captain,  would  not  sail  directly  for  the  United 
States,  he  should  be  put  in  irons,  and  his  command 
given  to  the  next  officer.  The  captain,  of  course, 
submitted,  and  Lafa}  ette  gave  him  a  bond  for  forty 
thousand  francs,  in  case  of  any  accident.  Th^y, 
therefore,  now  made  sail  directly  for  the  southern 
portion  of  the  United  States,  and  arrived  un 
molested  at  Charleston,  S.  C.  on  the  20th  of 
April,  1777. 

The  sensation  produced  by  his  appearance  in 
this  country  was,  of  course,  much  greater  than  that 
produced  in  Europe  by  his  departure.  It  still  stands 
forth,  as  one  of  the  most  prominent  and  important 
circumstances  in  our  revolutionary  contest ;  and, 
as  has  often  been  said  by  one  who  bore  no  small 
part  in  its  trials  and  success,  none  but  those  who 
were  then  alive,  can  believe  what  an  impulse  it 
gave  to  the  hopes  of  a  population  almost  disheart 
ened  by  a  long  series  of  disasters.  And  well  it 
might ;  for  it  taught  us,  that  in  the  first  rank  of  the 
first  nobility  in  Europe,  men  could  still  be  found, 
who  not  only  took  an  interest  in  our  struggle,  but 
were  willing  to  share  our  sufferings;  that  our  ob 
scure  and  almost  desperate  contest  for  freedom  in  a 
2 


10 

remote  quarter  of  the  world,  could  yet  find  support 
ers  among  those,  who  were  the  most  natural  and 
powerful  allies  of  a  splendid  despotism  ;  that  we 
were  the  objects  of  a  regard  and  interest  through 
out  the  world,  which  would  add  to  our  own  re 
sources  sufficient  strength  to  carry  us  safely  through 
to  final  success. 

Immediately  after  his  arrival,  Lafayette  receiv 
ed  the  offer  of  a  command  in  our  army,  but  declin 
ed  it.  Indeed,  during  the  whole  of  his  service 
with  us,  he  seemed  desirous  to  show,  by  his  con 
duct,  that  he  had  come  only  to  render  disinterested 
assistance  to  our  cause.  He  began,  therefore,  by 
clothing  and  equipping  a  body  of  men  at  Charles 
ton  at  his  own  expense  ;  and  then  entered,  as  a  vol 
unteer,  without  pay,  into  our  service.  He  lived  in 
the  family  of  the  Commander  in  Chief,  and  won 
his  full  affection  and  confidence.  He  was  appoint 
ed  a  Major  General  in  our  service,  by  a  vote  of 
Congress,  on  the  31st  of  July,  1777,  and  in  Sep 
tember  of  the  same  year,  was  wounded  at  Brandy- 
wine.  He  was  employed  in  1778  in  many  parts 
of  the  country,  as  a  Major  General,  and  as  the 
Head  of  a  separate  Division,  and  after  having  re 
ceived  the  thanks  of  Congress  for  his  important 
services,  embarked  at  Boston  in  January,  1779,  for 
France,  thinking  he  could  assist  us  more  effectu 
ally,  for  a  time,  in  Europe  than  in  America. 


11 

He  arrived  at  Versailles,  then  the  regular  resi 
dence  of  the  French  court,  on  the  1 2th  of  Feb 
ruary,  and  the  same  day  had  a  long  conference 
with  Maurepas,  the  Prime  Minister.  He  was  not 
permitted  to  see  the  king  ;  and  in  a  letter  written 
at  court  the  next  day,  we  are  told,  that  he  received 
an  order  to  visit  none  but  his  relations,  as  a  form  of 
censure  for  having  left  France  without  permission  ; 
but  this  was  an  order  that  fell  very  lightly  on  him, 
for  he  was  connected  by  birth  or  marriage  with 
almost  every  body  at  court,  and  every  body  else 
thronged  to  see  him  at  his  own  hotel.  The  treaty, 
which  was  concluded  between  America  and  France 
at  just  about  the  same  period,  was,  by  Lafayette's 
personal  exertions,  made  effective  in  our  favor. 
He  labored  unremittingly  to  induce  his  Govern 
ment  to  send  us  a  fleet  and  troops  ;  and  it  was  not 
until  he  had  gained  this  point,  and  ascertained  that 
he  should  be  speedily  followed  by  Count  Rocham- 
beau,  that  he  embarked  to  return.  He  reached  the 
Head  Quarters  of  the  Army  on  the  llth  of  May 
1780,  and  there  confidentially  communicated  the 
important  intelligence  to  the  Commander  in  Chief. 
Immediately  on  his  return  from  his  furlough, 
he  resumed  his  place  in  our  service  with  the  same 
disinterested  zeal  he  had  shown  on  his  first  arrival. 
He  received  the  separate  command  of  a  body  of 
infantry,  consisting  of  about  two  thousand  men,  and 


clothed  and  equipped  it  partly  at  his  own  expense, 
rendering  it  by  unwearied  exertions,  constant  sacri 
fices,  and  wise  discipline,  the  best  corps  in  the 
army.  What  he  did  for  us,  while  at  the  head  of 
this  division,  is  known  to  all,  who  have  read  the 
history  of  their  country.  His  forced  march  to  Vir 
ginia,  in  December  1780,  raising  two  thousand 
guineas  at  Baltimore,  on  his  own  credit,  to  supply 
the  pressing  wants  of  his  troops  ;  his  rescue  of 
Richmond,  which  but  for  his  great  exertions  must 
have  fallen  into  the  enemy's  hands  ;  his  long  trial 
of  generalship  with  Cornwallis,  who  foolishly 
boasted  in  an  intercepted  letter,  that  "the  boy  could 
not  escape  him  ;"  and  finally  the  siege  of  York- 
town,  the  storming  of  the  redoubt,  and  the  sur 
render  of  the  place  in  October,  1781,  are  proofs  of 
talent  as  a  military  commander,  and  devotion  to 
the  welfare  of  these  states,  for  which  he  never  has 
been  repaid,  and,  in  some  respects,  never  can  be. 
He  was,  however,  desirous  to  make  yet  greater 
exertions  in  our  favour,  and  announced  his  project 
of  revisiting  France  for  the  purpose.  Congress 
had  already  repeatedly  acknowledged  his  merits 
and  services  in  formal  votes.  They  now  acknowl 
edged  them  more  formally  than  ever  by  a  resolu 
tion  of  November  23d,  in  which,  besides  all  other 
expressions  of  approbation,  they  desire  the  foreign 
ministers  of  this  government  to  confer  with  him  in 


13 

their  negotiations  concerning  our  affairs  ;  a  mark 
of  respect  and  deference,  of  which  we  know  no 
other  example. 

In  France  a  brilliant  reputation  had  preceded 
him.  The  cause  of  America  was  already  popular 
there;  and  his  exertions  and  sacrifices  in  it,  which, 
from  the  first,  had  seemed  so  chivalrous  and  roman 
tic,  now  came  reflected  back  upon  him  in  the  strong 
light  of  popular  enthusiasm.  While  he  was  in  the 
United  States  for  the  first  time,  Voltaire  made  his 
remarkable  visit  to  Paris,  and  having  met  Madame 
de  Lafayette  at  the  Hotel  de  Choiseuil,  he  made 
her  a  long  harangue  on  the  brilliant  destinies  that 
awaited  her  husband  as  a  defender  of  the  great 
cause  of  popular  freedom  ;  and  ended  by  offering 
his  homage  to  her  on  his  knees. 

Before  his  return  too,  the  following  beautiful 
verses,  from  the  Gaston  et  Bayard  of  Belloy,  had 
been  often  applauded  and  their  repetition  sometimes 
called  for,  on  the  public  theatre,  and  Madame 
Campan  tells  us,  that  she  for  a  long  time  preserved 
them  in  the  handwriting  of  the  unfortunate  Queen 
of  Louis  Sixteenth,  who  had  transcribed  them  be 
cause  they  had  thus  been  publicly  appropriated  to 
the  popular  favorite  of  the  time. 

Eh  !  que  fait  sa  jcunesse 
Lorsque  de  Page  mur  je  lui  vois  la  sagesse  ? 
Profond  dans  ses  desseins,  qu?il  trace  avec  froideur, 
C'est  pour  les  accomplir,  qu'  il  garde  son  ardcur. 


U 

I)  xait  <l«fomJre  un  c;mip  i?t  forcer 

<  <>jnui'    'in   |''un<:  ;»oM;it  d^flfHllt  l<?ft  |M!;.I. 

<  '.nimr     Ufl    VM   ,i  -.     ;«/,,,.,)    i)    ••;,  it    jr -    «'•.,«,. 
f '     "i«       ,!..;      4  J«       <       /'    <;t    m«   m«     4 

c    ;i  |,ru<l<'nc<*  «t  j'aimf!  KOI 
<!«'«  d«;ux  v«rtun  uii  ^ucrricr  r^a  point 

Act.  L  J^c.  4.* 

If  in  not  remarkable,  fli<?r<:for<!,  with  «uch  a 
i;it'  <>l  r<;^lin^  wliili;  ho  wa«  Nf.il I  ;jl)N^nt  from  flic 
country,  th;il,  o/i  his  return,  In  \v;r.  followed  by 
r.rowds  in  tin;  public  wtnwtH  wherever  In;  wont ; 
and  ih:ii  in  a  journoy  ho  m;i<l<-  to  on<-  of  his  OH- 
fafoN  in  tho  houili  of  FraiM'o,  tin;  towns  through 
which  ho  j).r-'r!  received  him  with  procefflODf  and 
civic,  honors  :  and  th;it  in  tho  city  of  Orleans  ho 


*  A  *'niri\ttr  cinruiiwtMiM-*?  lujj>}>«?ii<?d,  or  railior  in 

on»l  iiihliitiM!  Wiu  pl<'|»ill'<'(i,  (it  JilMiuf  l)«-     ;HIM    f HIM    d 

'   i-.ili.inMi  -j   who  iulro<Ju<'«Mj  tii<    following  portniit  of  liini 
njio  In-   Amour  I' j;in<;oi»,  a<;t«j<J  in  I7HO. 

o-i  4-^1  i.,n.j,i«   pour  n«  (i.  <|u;iiiil  on  •  -i  iuutili; ; 

l/oi.-.ivi-li'-,  iiioiun-ui,  '-Ml  HIM:  morl  rivili:.... 

\  -     <  /  •  •  MI  ;t  pi'u  j»r< •»  <!«•  voh  •    .1   « 

II   iinorc  «     ;.u>    «!<HM  •  ur-   ij'iin    M  «  «  nl    in.n  . 

Aitx  I-II.IMIM-M  «!<•  lit  four,  uux  pldixirx  <!«'  J'uri*, 
I.. i  ."I'.!!'     i  ulc  <•(  liuulic,  1'inl/niM!  M;H  9§priti| 

II  vole  la  rlM'K'lMfi*   "i  mi  .mi n  hlmfoph&rOj  •  " 

T|M*  rtMMDbitOC4  WM»;  of  rour«<»,  ilDtDddulUl^ 

.iii'l  tin'  n. KIM  of  Lijfil)<'t|c,  wliM  li  iit  lie  I  W(IH  mill  IIIIIM  il  «l' 
fully,  wit*,  :it  tin'  «''IIM  lii  •  inn,  ihoutod  thrOUgbottt  tlic  ill 
in  H  tumult  of  ii|>)>l 


15 

was  detained  nearly  a  week  by  the  festivities  they 
had  prepared  for  him. 

Me  did  not,  however,  forget  our  interests  amidst 
the  popular  admiration  with  which  he  was  surround 
ed.  On  the  contrary,  though  the  negotiations  for 
a  peace  were  advancing,  he  was  constantly  urging 
upon  the  French  government  the  policy  of  sending 
more  troops  to  this  country,  as  the  surest  means 
of  bringing  the  war  to  a  speedy  and  favorable 
termination.  He  at  last  succeeded;  and  Count 
d'  Estaing  was  ordered  to  hold  himself  in  readiness 
to  sail  for  the  United  States,  as  soon  as  Lafayette 
should  join  him.  When,  therefore,  he  arrived  at 
Cadiz,  he  found  forty-nine  ships  and  twenty  thous 
and  men  ready  to  follow  him,  first  for  the  con 
quest*  of  Jamaica,  and  then  for  our  assistance  ; 
and  they  would  have  been  on  our  coast  early  in  the 
spring,  if  peace  had  not  rendered  further  exertions 
unnecessary.  This  great  event  was  first  announc 
ed  to  Congress,  by  a  letter  from  Lafayette,  dated 
in  the  harbor  of  Cadiz,  Feb.  5,  1783. 

As  soon  as  tranquillity  was  restored,  Lala\etti- 

*  When  Couut  tl'  Lstaiug  was  one  day  in  rtuifereiitv  \viili 
Charles  111.  of  Spain,  on  the  arrangements  tor  tins  expedition, 
the  Count  suggested  to  hia  Majesty  the  propriety  of  leaxinu 
Lafayette  for  a  time  as  Governor  of  Jamaica,  in  the  evem 
of  its  ittkjugtA&Mij  •*  God  forbid!'1  suit!  the  king,  alarmi-d,  ••  he 
would  immediately  make  a  republic  of  it.'5 


16 

began  to  receive  pressing  invitations  to  visit  the 
country,  whose  cause  he  had  so  materially  assisted. 
Washington,  in  particular,  was  extremely  urgent ; 
and  yielding  not  only  to  these  instances,  but  to  an 
attachment  to  the  United  States,  of  which  his 
whole  life  has  given  proof,  he  embarked  again  lor 
our  shores  and  landed  at  New  York  on  the  4th  of 
August  1784.  His  visit  however  was  short.  He 
went  almost  immediately  to  Mount  Vernon,  where 
he  passed  a  few  days  in  the  family  of  which  he 
was  so  long  a  cherished  member,  and  then  visiting 
Annapolis,  Baltimore,  Philadelphia,  New  York,  Al 
bany,  and  Boston,  received  every  where  with  un- 
mingled  enthusiasm  and  delight,  he  reembarked 
for  France.  But  when  he  was  thus  about  to  leave 
the  United  States  for  the  third,  and,  as  it  then  seem 
ed,  the  last  time,  Congress  in  December  1784 
appointed  a  solemn  deputation,  consisting  for  its 
greater  dignity,  of  one  member  from  each  state, 
w?ith  instructions  to  take  leave  of  him  on  behalf  of 
the  w7hole  country,  and  to  assure  him,  "  that  these 
United  States  regard  him  with  particular  affection, 
and  will  not  cease  to  feel  an  interest  in  whatever 
may  concern  his  honor  and  prosperity,  and  that 
their  best  and  kindest  wishes  will  always  attend 
him."  It  was  at  the  same  time  resolved,  that  a 
letter  be  written  to  his  Most  Christian  Majesty, 
expressive  of  the  high  sense,  which  the  United 


17 

States  in  Congress  assembled  entertain  of  the  zeal, 
talents,  and  meritorious  services  of  the  Marquis  de 
Lafayette,  and  recommending  him  to  the  favor  and 
patronage  of  his  Majesty.  We  are  not  aware,  that 
a  more  complete  expression  of  dignified  and  respect 
ful  homage  could  have  been  offered  to  him. 

During  the  year  that  followed  the  arrival  of 
Lafayette  in  his  own  country,  he  found  the  minds 
of  men  more  agitated  on  questions  of  political 
right,  than  they  had  ever  been  before.  He  went, 
for  a  short  time,  in  1785,  to  Prussia,  for  the  purpose 
of  seeing  the  troops  of  Frederick  Second,  and  was 
received  with  distinguished  kindness  and  consider 
ation  by  that  remarkable  monarch  ;  at  whose  court, 
by  a  singular  coincidence  of  circumstances,  he  fre 
quently  met  with  Lord  Cornwallis,  and  several 
other  of  the  officers  wTho  had  fought  against  him  in 
the  campaign  that  ended  at  Yorktown.  But  the 
grave  and  perilous  discussions,  that  were  then  go 
ing  on  in  France,  soon  called  him  back  from  Prus 
sia.  Into  some  of  those  discussions,  he  entered  at 
once  ;  on  others  he  waited ;  but,  on  all,  his  opin 
ions  were  openly  and  freely  known,  and  on  all, 
he  preserved  the  most  perfect  consistency.  He 
was  for  some  time  ineffectually  employed  with 
Malesherbes,  the  Minister  of  Louis  Sixteenth,  in 
endeavoring  to  relieve  the  Protestants  of  France 
from  political  disabilities,  ami  place  them  on  the 
3 


18 

same  footing  with  other  subjects.  He  was  the  first 
Frenchman,  who  raised  his  voice  against  the  slave 
trade  ;  and  it  is  worth  notice,  that  having  devoted 
considerable  sums  of  money  to  purchase  slaves  in  one 
of  the  colonies,  and  educate  them  for  emancipation, 
the  faction,  which  in  1792  proscribed  him,  as  an 
enemy  to  freedom,  sold  these  very  slaves  back  to 
their  original  servitude.  And  finally,  at  about  the 
same  time,  he  attempted  with  our  minister,  Mr 
Jefferson,  to  form  a  league  of  some  of  the  European 
Powers  against  the  Barbaresque  Pirates,  which,  if 
it  had  succeeded,  would  have  done  more  for  their 
suppression,  than  has  been  done  by  Sir  Sidney 
Smith's  Association,  or  is  likely  to  follow  Lord 
Ex  mouth's  victories. 

But  while  he  was  busied  in  the  interests,  to 
which  these  discussions  gave  rise,  the  materials  for 
great  internal  changes  were  collecting  together  at 
Paris  from  all  parts  of  France  ;  and  in  February 
1787,  the  Assembly  of  the  Notables  was  opened. 
Lafayette  was,  of  course,  a  member,  and  the  tone 
he  held  throughout  its  session  contributed  essentially 
to  give  a  marked  character  to  its  deliberations. 
He  proposed  the  suppression  of  the  odious  lettres 
de  cachet,  of  which  Mirabeau  declared  in  the  Na 
tional  Assembly,  that  seventeen  had  been  issued 
against  him  before  he  was  thirty  years  old  ;  he 
proposed  the  enfranchisement  of  the  protestants, 


19 

who,  from  the  time  of  the  abolition  of  the  Edict  of 
Nantz,  had  been  suffering  under  more  degrading 
disabilities  than  the  Catholics  now  are  in  Ireland  ; 
and  he  proposed  by  a  formal  motion, — which  wras 
the  first  time  that  word  was  ever  used  in  France, 
and  marks  an  important  step  towards  a  regular 
deliberative  assembly, — he  made  a  motion  for  the 
convocation  of  Representatives  of  the  people. 
"  What,"  said  the  Count  d'  Artois,  now  Charles 
Tenth,  who  presided  in  the  assembly  of  the  Nota 
bles,  "do  you  ask  for  the  States  General?"  "  Yes," 
replied  Lafayette,  "  and  for  something  more  and 
better  ;"  an  intimation,  which,  though  it  can  be 
readily  understood  by  all  who  have  lived  under  a 
representative  government,  was  hardly  intelligible 
in  France  at  that  time.* 

Lafayette  was,  also,  a  prominent  member  of 
the  States  General,  which  met  in  1789,  and  assum 
ed  the  name  of  the  National  Assembly.  He  pro 
posed  in  this  body  a  Declaration  of  Rights  not  un 
like  our  own,  and  it  was  under  his  influence  and 
while  he  was,  for  this  very  purpose,  in  the  chair, 
that  a  decree  was  passed  on  the  night  of  the  13th 


*  No  one  rose  to  second  this  motion  ;  and  yet,  only  two 
years  afterwards,  the  States  General  were  convoked  in  obedi 
ence  to  the  unanimous  call  of  the  nation  ;  so  clearly  had  La 
fayette  foreseen,  what  was  foreseen  by  nobody  else. 


20 

and  14th  of  July,  at  the  moment  the  Bastille  was 
(ailing  before  the  cannon  of  the  populace,  which 
provided  for  the  responsibility  of  ministers,  and 
thus  furnished  one  of  the  most  important  elements 
of  a  representative  monarchy.  Two  days  after 
wards,  he  was  appointed  Commander  in  Chief  of 
the  National  Guards  of  Paris,  and  thus  was  placed 
at  the  head  of  what  was  intended  to  be  made, 
when  it  should  be  carried  into  all  the  departments, 
the  effective  military  power  of  the  realm,  and  what, 
under  his  wise  management,  soon  become  such. 

His  great  military  command,  and  his  still 
greater  personal  influence,  now  brought  him  con 
stantly  in  contact  with  the  court  and  the  throne. 
His  position,  therefore,  was  extremely  delicate  and 
difficult,  especially  as  the  popular  party  in  Paris,  of 
which  he  was  not  so  much  the  head,  as  the  idol, 
was  already  in  a  state  of  perilous  excitement,  and 
atrocious  violences  were  beginning  to  be  committed. 
The  abhorrence  of  the  queen  was  almost  universal, 
and  was  excessive  to  a  degree  of  which  we  can 
now  have  no  just  idea.  The  circumstance  that  the 
court  lived  at  Versailles,  sixteen  miles  from  Paris, 
and  that  the  session  of  the  National  Assembly  was 
held  there,  was  another  source  of  jealousy,  irrita 
tion,  and  hatred,  on  the  part  of  the  capital.  The 
people  of  Paris,  therefore,  as  a  sign  of  opposition, 
had  mounted  their  municipal  cockade  of  blue  and 


21 

red,  whose  effects  were  already  becoming  alarm  ing. 
Lafayette,  who  was  anxious  about  the  consequences 
of  such  a  marked  division,  and  who  knew  how  im 
portant  are  small  means  of  conciliation,  added  to 
it,  on  the  26th  of  July,  the  white  of  the  Royal 
cockade,  and  as  he  placed  it  in  his  own  hat, 
amidst  the  acclamations  of  the  multitude,  prophesi 
ed,  that  it  "  would  go  round  the  world  ;  "  a  predic 
tion,  which  is  already  more  than  half  accomplished, 
•since  the  tricolored  cockade  has  been  used  for  the 
ensign  of  emancipation  in  Spain,  in  Naples,  in 
some  parts  of  South  America,  and  in  Greece. 

Still,  however,  the  tendency  of  everything  was 
to  confusion  and  violence.  The  troubles  of  the 
times,  too,  rather  than  a  positive  want  of  the 
means  of  subsistence,  had  brought  on  a  famine  in 
the  capital  ;  and  the  populace  of  the  Fauxbourgs, 
the  most  degraded  certainly  in  France,  having  as 
sembled  and  armed  themselves,  determined  to  go 
to  Versailles  ;  the  greater  part  with  a  blind  desire 
for  vengeance  on  the  royal  family,  but  others  only 
with  the  purpose  of  bringing  the  king  from  Ver 
sailles,  and  forcing  him  to  reside  in  the  more  ancient 
but  scarcely  habitable  palace  of  the  Thuilleries,  in 
the  midst  of  Paris.  The  National  Guards  clamor 
ed  to  accompany  this  savage  multitude  ;  Lafayette 
opposed  their  inclination  ;  the  municipality  of 
Paris  hesitated,  but  supported  it ;  he  resisted  near- 


22 

ly  the  whole  of  the  5th  of  October,  while  the 
road  to  Versailles  was  already  thronged  with 
an  exasperated  mob  of  above  an  hundred  thou 
sand  ferocious  men  and  women,  until,  at  last, 
finding  the  multitude  were  armed  and  even  had 
cannon,  he  asked  and  received  an  order  to  march, 
from  the  competent  authority,  and  set  off  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  as  one  going  to  a  post  of 
imminent  danger,  which  it  had  clearly  become  his 
duty  to  occupy. 

He  arrived  at  Versailles  at  ten  o'clock  at  night, 
after  having  been  on  horseback  from  before  day 
light  in  the  morning,  and  having  made,  during  the 
whole  interval,  both  at  Paris  and  on  the  road,  in 
credible  exertions  to  control  the  multitude  and 
calm  the  soldiers.  "  The  Marquis  de  Lafayette  at 
last  entered  the  Chateau,"  says  Madame  de  Stael, 
"  and  passing  through  the  apartment  where  we 
were,  went  to  the  king.  We  all  pressed  round 
him,  as  if  he  were  the  master  of  events,  and  yet 
the  popular  party  was  already  more  powerful  than 
its  chief,  and  principles  were  yielding  to  factions, 
or  rather  were  beginning  to  serve  only  as  their 
pretext.  M.  de  Lafayette's  manner  was  perfectly 
calm  ;  nobody  ever  saw  it  otherwise  ;  but  his 
delicacy  suffered  from  the  importance  of  the  part 
he  was  called  to  act.  He  asked  for  the  interior 
posts  of  the  chateau,  in  order  that  he  might  ensure 


23 

their  safety.  Only  the  outer  posts  were  granted 
to  him."  This  refusal  was  not  disrespectful  to  him 
who  made  the  request.  It  was  given,  simply  be 
cause  the  etiquette  of  the  court  reserved  the  guard 
of  the  royal  person  and  family  to  another  body  of 
men.  Lafayette,  therefore,  answered  for  the  Na 
tional  Guards,  and  for  the  posts  committed  to 
them  ;  but  he  could  answer  for  no  more  ;  *  and  his 
pledge  was  faithfully  and  desperately  redeemed. 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock,  the  queen  and 
the  royal  family  went  to  bed.  Lafayette,  too, 
slept  after  the  great  fatigues  of  this  fearful  day. 
At  half  past  four,  a  portion  of  the  populace  made 
their  way  into  the  palace  by  an  obscure,  interior 
passage,  which  had  been  overlooked,  and  which 
was  not.  in  that  part  of  the  chateau  entrusted  to 
Lafayette.  They  were  evidently  led  by  persons 
who  well  knew  the  secret  avenues.  Mirabeau's 
name  was  afterwards  strangely  compromised  in  it, 
and  the  form  of  the  infamous  Duke  of  Orleans  was 
repeatedly  recognised  on  the  great  staircase,  point 
ing  the  assassins  the  way  to  the  queen's  chamber. 

*  So  completely  were  all  persons  unsuspicious  of  any  im 
mediate  danger,  that  the  guards  of  the  interior  posts  were  no 
where  increased ;  and  not  the  slightest  change  was  made  in 
the  customary  arrangements,  except  what  was  made  at  the 
solicitation  of  Lafayette. 


24 

They  easily  found  it.  Two  of  her  guards  were 
cut  down  in  an  instant ;  and  she  made  her  escape 
almost  naked.  Lafayette  immediately  rushed  in 
with  the  national  troops,  protected  the  guards  from 
the  brutal  populace,  and  saved  the  lives  of  the  roy 
al  family,  which  had  so  nearly  been  sacrificed  to 
the  etiquette  of  the  monarchy. 

The  day  dawned  as  this  fearful  scene  of  guilt  and 
bloodshed  was  passing  in  the  magnificent  palace, 
whose  construction  had  exhausted  the  revenues  of 
Louis  Fourteenth,  and  which,  for  a  century,  had 
been  the  most  splendid  residence  in  Europe.  As 
soon  as  it  was  light,  the  same  furious  multitude 
filled  the  vast  space,  which,  from  the  rich  materials 
of  which  it  is  formed,  passes  under  the  name  of 
the  court  of  marble.  They  called  upon  the  king, 
in  tones  not  to  be  mistaken,  to  go  to  Paris  ;  and 
they  called  for  the  queen,  who  had  but  just  escap 
ed  from  their  daggers,  to  come  out  upon  the  bal 
cony.  The  king,  after  a  short  consultation  with 
his  ministers,  announced  his  intention  to  set  out 
for  the  capital  ;  but  Lafayette  was  afraid  to  trust 
the  queen  in  the  midst  of  the  bloodthirsty  multitude. 
He  went  to  her,  therefore,  with  respectful  hesita 
tion,  and  asked  her  if  it  were  her  purpose  to  ac 
company  the  king  to  Paris.  "  Yes,"  she  replied, 
"  although  I  am  aware  of  the  danger."  "  Are  you 
positively  determined  ?  ?:  "  Yes,  sir."  "  Conde- 


25 

scend,  then,  to  go  out  upon  the  balcony,  and  suffer 
me  to  attend  you."  "  Without  the  king  :" — she 
replied,  hesitating — "  Have  you  observed  the 
threats  ?"  "  Yes,  Madam,  I  have  ;  but  dare  to 
trust  me."  He  led  her  out  upon  the  balcony. 
It  was  a  moment  of  great  responsibility  and  great 
delicacy  ;  but  nothing,  he  felt  assured,  could  be  so 
dangerous  as  to  permit  her  to  set  out  for  Paris, 
surrounded  by  that  multitude,  unless  its  feelings 
could  be  changed.  The  agitation,  the  tumult,  the 
cries  of  the  crowd,  rendered  it  impossible  that  his 
voice  should  be  heard.  It  was  necessary,  therefore, 
to  address  himself  to  the  eye,  and  turning  towards 
the  queen,  with  that  admirable  presence  of  mind, 
which  never  yet  forsook  him,  and  with  that  mingled 
grace  and  dignity,  which  were  the  peculiar  inher 
itance  of  the  ancient  court  of  France,  he  simply 
kissed  her  hand  before  the  vast  multitude.  An 
instant  of  silent  astonishment  followed,  but  the 
whole  wras  immediately  interpreted,  and  the  air 
was  rent  with  cries  of  "  Long  live  the  queen!" 
"  Long  live  the  general !"  from  the  same  fickle  and 
cruel  populace,  that  only  two  hours  before  had  eni- 
brued  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  guards,  who 
defended  the  life  of  this  same  queen. 

The  same  day,  that  this  scene  was  passing,  the 
first  meeting  of  the   Jacobin   club  was  held.      A- 
gainst  this  club  and   its  projects  Lafayette  at  once 
4 


26 

declared  himself.  With  Bailly,  the  Mayor  of  Paris, 
he  organized  an  opposing  club,  and  the  victory  be 
tween  the  two  parties  was  doubtful  for  above  a 
year  and  a  half.  The  contest,  however,  which 
was  produced  by  this  state  of  things,  placed  La 
fayette  in  a  very  embarrassing  and  dangerous  posi 
tion.  He  was  obliged  to  oppose  the  unprincipled 
purposes  of  the  Jacobins,  without  retreating  to 
wards  the  principles  of  the  ancient  despotism  ;  and 
it  is  greatly  to  his  honor,  that  he  did  it  most  faith 
fully  and  consistently.  When  therefore,  on  the 
20th  of  June,  1790,  a  proposition  was  suddenly 
made  in  the  Assembly  to  abolish  all  titles  of  nobili 
ty,  Lafayette,  true  to  his  principles,  rose  to  second 
it.  A  short  discussion  followed.  It  was  objected 
to  the  abolition  of  rank,  that,  if  there  were  no 
titles,  no  such  reward  could  be  conferred  as  was 
once  conferred  by  Henry  Second,  when  he  created 
an  obscure  person,  according  to  the  terms  of  his 
patent,  "noble  and  count,  for  having  saved  the 
country  at  such  a  time."  "  The  only  difference," 
replied  Lafayette,  "  will  be,  that  the  words,  noble 
and  count  will  be  left  out,  and  the  patent  will 
simply  declare,  that  on  such  an  occasion,  such  a 
man  saved  the  state."  From  this  time  Lafayette 
renounced  the  title  of  Marquis,  and  has  never  since 
resumed  it.  Since  the  restoration  of  the  Bourbons 
indeed,  and  the  revival  of  the  ancient  nobility, 


27 

I 

there  has  been  sometimes  an  affectation  among  the 
Ultra  Royalists  of  calling  him  by  his  former  title  ; 
but  he  has  never  recognised  it,  and  is  still  known 
in  France  only  by  the  address  of  General.  At 
least,  if  he  is  sometimes  called  otherwise  there,  it 
is  not  by  his  friends. 

At  length  the  Constitution  of  a  representative 
Monarchy,  much  more  popular  than  that  of  Great 
Britain,  which  Lafayette's  exertions  had,  from  the 
first  opening  of  tiie  Assembly,  been  consistently 
devoted  to  establish,  was  prepared  ;  and  all  were 
desirous  that  it  should  be  received  and  recognised 
by  the  nation  in  the  most  solemn  manner.  The 
day  chosen,  as  most  appropiate  for  the  ceremony, 
was  the  14th  of  July,  1790,  the  anniversary  of  the 
destruction  of  the  Bastille  ;  and  the  open  space  be 
hind  the  military  school,  called  the  Champ  de  Mars, 
from  the  Campus  Martius  of  the  Romans,  was  the 
place  fixed  on  for  this  great  national  festival  and 
solemnity.  By  the  constant  labor  of  above  two 
hundred  thousand  persons  of  both  sexes  and  all 
ranks,  from  dukes  and  duchesses,  bishops  and  depu 
ties,  down  to  the  humblest  artisans,  who  all  made 
the  occasion  like  the  Saturnalia  of  the  ancients,  an 
amphitheatre  of  earth  four  miles  in  circumference 
was  raised  in  a  few  weeks,  whose  sides  were  form 
ed  of  seats  destined  to  receive  the  French  people, 
and  amidst  which  stood  the  Throne  and  the  Altar. 


28 

On  the  morning  of  the  day  when  the  whole  was 
to  be  consummated,  the  king,  the  court,  the  clergy, 
the  National  Assembly,  a  deputation  of  the  mili 
tary  from  the  eighty-three  departments,  and  a  body 
of  people  amounting  to  above  four  hundred  thou 
sand  souls  were  assembled  in  this  magnificent  am 
phitheatre.  Mass  was  first  said,  and  then  La 
fayette,  who  that  day  had  the  military  command  of 
four  millions  of  men,  represented  by  14,000  elect 
ed  military  deputies,  and  who  held  in  his  hands  the 
power  of  the  monarchy,  swore  to  the  Constitution 
on  behalf  of  the  nation,  at  the  altar  which  had  been 
erected  in  the  midst  of  the  arena.  Every  eye  of 
that  immense  mass  was  turned  on  him  ;  every  hand 
was  raised  to  join  the  oath  he  uttered.  It  was,  no 
doubt,  one  of  the  most  magnificent  and  solemn  cer 
emonies  the  world  ever  saw  ;  and,  perhaps,  no 
man  ever  enjoyed  the  sincere  confidence  of  an  en 
tire  people  more  completely  than  Lafayette  did,  as 
he  thus  bore  the  most  imposing  part  in  these  extra 
ordinary  solemnities. 

The  Champ  de  Mars,  however,  as  Madame  de 
Stael  has  well  observed,  was  the  last  movement  of  a 
genuine  national  enthusiasm  in  France.  The  Ja 
cobins  were  constantly  gaining  power,  and  the  rev 
olution  was  falling  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of 
the  populace.  When  the  king  wished  to  go  to  St 
Cloud  with  his  family,  in  order  to  pass  through  the 


29' 

duties  of  Easter,  under  the  ministration  of  a  priest, 
who  had  not  taken  certain  civil  oaths,  which  in  the 
eyes  of  many  conscientious  Catholics  desecrated 
those  who  received  them,  the  populace  and  the 
national  guards  tumultuously  stopped  his  carriage. 
Lafayette  arrived,  at  the  first  suggestion  of  danger. 
"  If,"  said  he,  "  this  be  a  matter  of  conscience 
with  your  majesty,  we  will,  if  it  is  necessary, 
die  to  maintain  it  ;"  and  he  offered  immediately 
to  open  a  passage  by  force  ;  but  the  king  hesitated 
at  first,  and  finally  determined  to  remain  in  Paris. 
Lafayette,  indeed,  under  all  circumstances,  re 
mained  strictly  faithful  to  his  oaths  ;  and  now  de 
fended  the  freedom  of  the  king,  as  sincerely  as  he 
had  ever  defended  the  freedom  of  the  people.  His 
situation,  therefore,  became  every  day  more  dan 
gerous.  He  might  have  taken  great  power  to  him 
self,  and  so  have  been  safe.  He  might  have  re 
ceived  the  sword  of  Constable  of  France,  which 
was  worn  by  the  Montmorencies,  but  he  declined 
it  ;  or  he  might  have  been  Generalissimo  of  the 
National  Guards,  who  owed  their  existence  to  him; 
but  he  thought  it  more  for  the  safety  of  the  state 
that  no  such  power  should  exist.  Having,  there 
fore,  organized  this  last  body,  according  to  the 
project  he  had  originally  formed  for  it,  he  resigned 
all  command  at  the  dissolution  of  the  Const! tuant 
Assembly,  with  a  disinterestedness  of  which,  per- 


30 

haps,  Washington  alone  could  have  been  his  exam 
ple  ;  and  retired  to  his  estate  in  the  country,  fol 
lowed,  as  he  had  been  for  many  years,  by  crowds 
wherever  he  went,  and  accompanied  on  his  way 
by  every  form  of  popular  enthusiasm  and  admira 
tion. 

From  the  tranquillity  to  which  he  now  gladly 
turned,  he  was  soon  called  by  the  war  with  Aus 
tria,  declared  April  20th,  1792,  and  in  which  he 
was,  at  once,  appointed  one  of  the  three  Generals 
to  command  the  French  armies.  His  labors,  in 
the  beginning  of  this  war,  whose  declaration  he  did 
not  approve,  were  very  severe  ;  and  the  obstacles 
he  surmounted,  some  of  which  were  purposely 
thrown  in  his  way  by  the  factions  of  the  capital, 
were  grave  and  alarming.  But  the  Jacobins  at 
Paris  were  now  a  wrell  organized  body,  and  were 
fast  maturing  their  arrangements  to  overturn  the 
Constitution.  Violences  of  almost  every  degree  of 
atrocity  were  become  common,  and  that  public  or 
der  of  which  Lafayette  had  never  ceased  to  speak 
on  all  suitable  occasions,  no  longer  existed.*  Un- 

*  It  is  a  singular  fact,  that  in  all  Lafayette's  speeches  and 
addresses  between  1787  and  1792,  he  hardly  once  mentions 
Freedom,  without  coupling  it  with  some  intimation  or  injunc 
tion  to  respect  and  support  Public  Order.  Since  that  time, 
the  two  phrases  have  been  generally  united  ;  but  they  have 
not  always  meant  as  much  as  they  did  when  used  by  Lafayette. 


31 

der  these  circumstances,  he  felt  that  his  silence 
would  be  an  abandonment  of  the  principles  to  the 
support  of  which  he  had  devoted  his  life  ;  and  with 
a  courage,  which  few  men  in  any  age  have  been 
able  to  show,  and  with  a  temperance,  which  has 
always  kept  his  conduct  on  one  even  line,  he  wrote 
a  letter  to  the  National  Assembly,  dated  June  16th, 
in  which  he  plainly  denounced  the  growing  faction 
of  Jacobins,  and  called  on  the  constituted  authori 
ties  to  put  a  stop  to  the  atrocities  this  faction  was 
openly  promoting.  In  the  course  of  this  letter  he 
dared  to  say  ;  "  Let  the  royal  authority  be  un 
touched,  for  it  is  guarantied  by  the  constitution  ; 
let  it  be  independent,  for  its  independence  is  one  of 
the  springs  of  our  liberty  ;  let  the  king  be  respect 
ed,  for  he  is  invested  with  the  majesty  of  the  na 
tion  ;  let  him  choose  a  ministry  that  shall  wear  the 
chains  of  no  faction  ;  and  if  traitors  exist,  let 
them  perish  only  under  the  sword  of  the  law." 
There  was  not  another  man  in  France,  who  would 
have  dared  to  take  such  a  step,  at  such  a  time  ; 
and  it  required  all  Lafayette's  vast  influence  to 
warrant  him  in  expressing  such  opinions  and  feel 
ings,  or  to  protect  him  afterwards. 

At  first  the  Jacobins  seemed  to  shrink  from  a 
contest  with  him.  He  had  said  to  the  assembly, 
"  Let  the  reign  of  clubs,  abolished  by  you,  give 
place  to  the  reign  of  the  law,"  and  they  almost 


32 

doubted  whether  he  had  not  yet  power  enough  to 
effect  what  he  counselled.  They  began,  therefore, 
as  soon  as  the  letter  had  been  read,  by  denying  its 
authenticity  ;  they  declared  it,  in  short,  to  be  a  for 
gery.  As  soon  as  Lafayette  heard  of  this,  he 
came  to  Paris,  and  avowed  it  at  the  bar  of  the 
Assembly.  The  20th  of  June,  however,  had  over 
thrown  the  Constitution  before  his  arrival  ;  and, 
though  he  stood  with  an  air  of  calm  command 
amidst  its  ruins,  and  vindicated  it  as  proudly  as 
ever,  he  was,  after  all,  surrounded  by  those  who 
had  triumphed  over  it.  Still  the  majority  of  the 
Assembly  was  decidedly  with  him,  and  when  on 
the  8th  of  August,  his  impeachment  was  moved, 
more  than  two  thirds  voted  in  his  favor.  But 
things  were  daily  growing  worse.  On  the  9th yof 
August,  the  Assembly  declared  itself  no  longer^ 
and  within  two  days,  its  number  fell  to  less  than 
one  third,  and  the  capital  was  given  up  to  the  ter 
rors  of  the  10th  of  August.  Lafayette,  therefore, 
could  do  nothing  at  Paris,  and  returned  to  his  army 
on  the  borders  of  the  low  countries.  But  the  army, 
too,  was  now  infected.  He  endeavoured  to  assure 
himself  of  its  fidelity,  and  proposed  to  the  soldiers 
to  swear  anew  to  the  Constitution.  A  very  large 
proportion  refused,  and  it  immediately  became  ap 
parent,  from  the  movements,  both  at  Paris  and  in 
the  army,  that  he  was  no  longer  safe.  His  adver- 


33 

saries,  who  for  his  letter,  were  determined  and  in 
terested  to  ruin  him,  were  his  judges  ;  and  they  be 
longed  to  a  party,  which  was  never  known  to  de 
vote  a  victim  without  consummating  the  sacrifice. 
On  the  1  7th  of  August,  therefore,  accompanied  by 
three  of  his  general  officers,  Alexandre  Lameth, 
Latour  Maubourg,  and  Bureaux  de  Puzy,  he  left 
the  army,  and  in  a  few  hours  was  beyond  the  limits 
of  France.  His  general  purpose  was,  to  reach  the 
neutral  territory  of  the  republic  of  Holland,  which 
was  quite  near  ;  and  from  that  point  either  rally 
the  old  constitutional  party,  or  pass  to  Switzer 
land  or  the  United  States,  where  he  should  be 
joined  by  his  family.  That  he  did  not  leave 
France,  while  any  hope  remained  for  him,  is  cer 
tain  ;  since,  before  his  escape  was  known  at  Paris, 
a  decree,  accusing  him  of  high  treason,  which  was 
then  equivalent  to  an  order  for  his  execution,  was 
carried  in  what  remained  of  the  Assembly  by  a 
large  majority. 

Lafayette  and  his  companions  hoped  to  avoid 
the  enemy's  posts,  but  they  did  not  succeed.  They 
were  seized  the  same  night  by  an  Austrian  patrol, 
and  soon  afterwards  recognised.  They  were  not 
treated  as  prisoners  of  war,  which  was  the  only 
quality  in  which  they  could  have  been  arrested  and 
detained  ;  but  were  exposed  to  disgraceful  indigni 
ties,  because  they  had  been  the  friends  of  the  Con- 
5 


34 

stitution.  After  being  detained  a  short  time  by 
the  Austrians,  they  were  given  up  to  the  Prus 
sians,  who,  because  their  fortresses  were  nearer, 
were  supposed  to  be  able  to  receive  and  guard 
them  more  conveniently.  At  first,  they  were  con 
fined  at  Wesel  on  the  Rhine,  and  afterwards  in 
dungeons  at  Magdeburg.  But  the  Prussians,  at 
last,  became  unwilling  to  bfjar  the  odium  of  such 
unlawful  and  disgraceful  treatment  of  prisoners  of 
war,  entitled  to  every  degree  of  respect  from  their 
rank  and  character  ;  and  especially  from  the  man 
ner  in  which  they  had  been  taken.  They,  there 
fore,  before  they  made  peace,  gave  them  up  again 
to  the  Austrians,  who  finally  transferred  them  to 
most  unhealthy  dungeons  in  the  citadel  of  Olmutz. 
The  sufferings  to  which  Lafayette  was  here  expos 
ed,  in  the  mere  spirit  of  a  barbarous  revenge,  are 
almost  incredible.  He  was  W7arned°,  "  that  he 
would  never  again  see  any  thing  but  the  four  walls 
of  his  dungeon  ;  that  he  would  never  receive  news 
of  events  or  persons  ;  that  his  name  would  be  un 
known  in  the  citadel,  and  that  in  all  accounts  of 
him  sent  to  court,  he  would  be  designated  only  by 
a  number  ;  that  he  would  never  receive  any  notice 
of  his  family,  or  of  the  existence  of  his  fellow 
prisoners."  At  the  same  time,  knives  and  forks 
were  removed  from  him,  as  he  was  officially  in- 


35 

formed,  that  his  situation  was  one  which  would 
naturally  lead  him  to  suicide.* 

His  sufferings,  indeed,  proved  almost  beyond 
his  strength.  The  want  of  air,  and  the  loathsome 
dampness  and  filth  of  his  dungeon,  brought  him 
more  than  once  to  the  borders  of  the  grave.  His 
frame  was  wasted  with  diseases,  of  which,  for  a 
long  period,  not  the  slightest  notice  was  taken  ;  and 
on  one  occasion,  he  was  reduced  so  low,  that  his 
hair  fell  from  him  entirely  by  the  excess  of  his  suf 
ferings.  At  the  same  time,  his  estates  in  France 
were  confiscated,  his  wife  cast  into  prison,  and 
Fayettisme,  as  adherence  to  the  Constitution  was 
called,  was  punished  with  death. 

His  friends,  however,  all  over  Europe,  were 
carefully  watching  every  opportunity  to  obtain  some 
intelligence  which  should,  at  least,  render  his  exis 
tence  certain.  Among  those  who  made  the  most 
vigorous  and  continued  exertions  to  get  some  hint 
of  his  fate,  was  Count  Lally  Tolendal,  then  a 

*  One  principal  reason  of  the  vindictive  spirit  of  the  Aus 
trian  Government  towards  Lafayette  is,  no  doubt,  to  be  sought 
in  the  circumstance,  that,  as  the  leader  of  the  early  part  of 
the  French  Revolution,  he  brought  on  those  events,  which  led 
to  the  overthrow  of  the  Monarchy,  and  the  death  of  the  Queen, 
who  was  an  Austrian.  Lameth  was  released  by  Prussia,  at  the 
entreaty  of  his  family,  after  the  transfer  of  the  three  other 
prisoners  to  Austria. 


36 

refugee  from  his  blood  stained  country.  This  no 
bleman  became  acquainted  in  London  with  Dr 
Erick  Bollmann,  a  Hanoverian,  who,  immediately 
after  the  massacres  of  August  10th,  1792,  had 
been  employed  by  Madame  de  Stael  to  effect  the 
escape  of  Count  Narbonne,  and,  by  great  address 
and  courage,  had  succeeded  in  conveying  him  safe 
ly  to  England.  Dr  Bollmann's  adventurous  spirit 
easily  led  him  to  engage  in  the  affairs  of  Lafayette. 
His  first  expedition  to  the  continent,  under  the 
direction  of  Lafayette's  friends  in  London,  in  1793, 
was,  however,  no  further  successful,  than  that  he 
learned  the  determination  of  the  Prussian  govern 
ment  to  give  up  Lafayette  to  Austria,  and  the 
probability  that  he  had  been  already  transferred. 
Where  he  was,  and  whether  he  were  even  alive, 
were  circumstances  Dr  Bollmann  found  it  impossi 
ble  to  determine. 

But  the  friends  of  Lafayette  W7ere  not  dis 
couraged.  In  June  1794,  they  again  sent  Dr 
Bollmann  to  Germany  to  ascertain  what  had  been 
his  fate,  and  if  he  were  still  alive,  to  endeavor  to 
procure  his  escape.  With  great  difficulty,  he  traced 
the  French  prisoners  to  the  Prussian  frontiers,  and 
there  ascertained,  that  an  Austrian  escort  had  re 
ceived  them,  and  taken  the  road  to  Olmiitz,  a 
strong  fortress  in  Moravia,  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  north  of  Vienna,  and  near  the  borders  of 


37 

Silesia.  At  Olmiitz,  Dr  Bollmann  ascertained, 
that  several  state  prisoners  were  kept  in  the  citadel 
with  a  degree  of  caution  and  mystery,  which  must 
have  been  not  unlike  that  used  towards  the  half 
fabulous  personage  in  the  iron  mask.  He  did  not 
doubt  but  Lafayette  was  one  of  them,  and  making 
himself  professionally  acquainted  with  the  military 
surgeon  of  the  post,  soon  became  sure  of  it.  By 
very  ingenious  means,  Dr  Bollmann  contrived  to 
communicate  his  projects  through  this  surgeon  to 
Lafayette,  and  to  obtain  answers  without  exciting 
the  surgeon's  suspicions  ;  until,  at  last,  after  the 
lapse  of  several  months,  during  which,  to  avoid  all 
risk,  Dr  Bollmann  made  a  long  visit  at  Vienna, 
it  was  determined,  that  an  attempt  should  be  made 
to  rescue  Lafayette,  while  on  one  of  the  airings, 
with  which  he  was  then  regularly  indulged  on  ac 
count  of  his  broken  health. 

As  soon  as  this  was  arranged,  Dr  Bollmann  re 
turned  to  Vienna,  and  communicated  his  project  to 
a  young  American,  by  the  name  of  Francis  K. 
Huger,  then  accidentally  in  Austria  ;  son  of  the  per 
son  at  whose  house,  near  Charleston,  Lafayette  had 
been  first  received  on  his  landing  in  America  ;  a 
young  man  of  uncommon  talent,  decision,  and  enthu 
siasm,  who  at  once  entered  into  the  wrhole  design, 
and  devoted  himself  to  its  execution  with  the  most 
romantic  earnestness.  These  were  the  only  two 


58 

persons  on  the  continent,  except  Lafayette  himself, 
who  had  the  slightest  suspicion  of  these  arrange 
ments  for  his  rescue,  and  neither  of  these  persons 
knew  him  by  sight.  It  was  therefore  concerted 
between  the  parties,  after  the  two  friends  had  come 
to  Olmiitz  in  November,  that,  to  avoid  all  mistakes 
when  the  rescue  should  be  attempted,  each  should 
take  off  his  hat  and  wipe  his  forehead,  in  sign  of 
recognition ;  and  then,  having  ascertained  a  day 
when  Lafayette  would  ride  out,  Dr  Bollmann  and 
Mr  Huger  sent  their  carriage  ahead  to  Hoff,  a  post 
town  about  twenty-five  miles  on  the  road  they 
wished  to  take,  with  directions  to  have  it  waiting 
for  them  at  a  given  hour.  The  rescue  they  deter 
mined  to  attempt  on  horseback ;  and  they  put  no 
b:i!ls  into  their  pistols,  and  took  no  other  weapons, 
thinking  it  would  be  unjustifiable  to  commit  a  mur 
der  even  to  effect  their  purpose. 

Having  ascertained  that  a  carriage  which  they 
supposed  must  contain  Lafayette,  since  there  was 
a  prisoner  and  an  officer  inside  and  a  guard  behind, 
had  passed  out  of  the  gate  of  the  fortress,  they 
mounted  and  followed.  They  rode  by  it,  and  then 
slackening  their  pace  and  allowing  it  again  to  go 
ahead,  exchanged  signals  with  the  prisoner.  At 
two  or  three  miles  from  the  gate,  the  carriage  left 
the  high  road,  and  passing  into  a  less  frequented 
track  in  the  midst  of  an  open  country,  Lafayette 


39 

descended  to  walk  for  exercise,  guarded  only  by 
the  officer  who  had  been  riding  with  him.  This 
was  evidently  the  moment  for  their  attempt.  They 
therefore  rode  up  at  once  ;  and  after  an  inconsidera 
ble  struggle  with  the  officer,  from  which  the  guard 
fled  to  alarm  the  citadel,  the  rescue  was  completed. 
One  of  the  horses,  however,  had  escaped  during  the 
contest,  and  thus  only  one  remained  with  which  to 
proceed.  Lafayette  was  immediately  mounted  on 
this  horse,  and  Mr  Huger  told  him,  in  English,  to 
go  to  Hoff.  He  mistook  what  was  said  to  him 
for  a  mere  general  direction  to  go  off — delayed  a 
moment  to  see  if  he  could  not  assist  them — then 
went  on — then  rode  back  again,  and  asked  once 
more,  if  he  could  be  of  no  service — and  finally, 
urged  anew,  galloped  slowly  away. 

The  horse,  that  had  escaped,  was  soon  recovered, 
and  both  Dr  Bollmann  and  Mr  Huger  mounted  him, 
intending  to  follow  and  assist  Lafayette.  But  the  an 
imal  proved  intractable,*  threw  them  and  left  them, 
for  some  time,  stunned  by  their  fall.  On  recover 
ing  their  horse  a  second  time,  Dr  Bollmann  alone 
mounted  ;  Mr  Huger  thinking  that,  from  his  own 
imperfect  knowledge  of  the  German,  he  could  not 
do  as  much  towards  effecting  their  main  purpose. 

*  This  was  the  horse  prepared  for  Lafayette.  The  other, 
on  which  it  had  been  necessary  to  mount  him,  had  been  ex 
pressly  trained  to  carry  two  persons. 


40 

These  accidents  defeated  their  romantic  enterprise. 
Mr  Huger,  who  could  now  attempt  his  escape  only 
on  foot,  was  soon  stopped  by  some  peasants,  who 
had  witnessed  what  had  passed.  Dr  Bollmann 
easily  arrived  at  Hoff ;  but  not  finding  Lafayette 
there,  lingered  about  the  frontiers  till  the  next  night, 
when  he  too  was  arrested  and  delivered  up  to  the 
Austrians.  And  finally  Lafayette,  having  taken  a 
wrong  road  and  pursued  it  till  his  horse  could  pro 
ceed  no  further,  was  stopped  at  the  village  of 
Jagersdorff,  as  a  suspicious  person,  and  detained 
there  till  he  was  recognised  by  an  officer  from 
Olmutz,  two  days  afterwards.  All  three  of  them 
were  brougnt  back  to  the  citadel  separately,  and 
were  there  separately  confined  without  being  per 
mitted  to  know  any  thing  of  each  other's  fate.  Mr 
Huger  was  chained  to  the  floor,  in  a  small  arched 
dungeon,  about  six  feet  by  eight,  without  light 
and  with  only  bread  and  water  for  food  ;  and  once 
in  six  hours,  by  day  and  by  night,  the  guard  enter 
ed,  and,  with  a  lamp,  examined  each  brick  in  his 
cell,  and  each  link  in  his  chain.  To  his  earnest 
request  to  know  something  of  Dr  Bollmann,  and 
to  learn  whether  Lafayette  had  escaped,  he  receiv 
ed  no  answer  at  all.  To  his  more  earnest  request 
to  be  permitted  to  send  to  his  mother  in  America 
merely  the  words,  "  I  am  alive,"  signed  with  his 
name,  he  received  a  rude  refusal.  Indeed,  at  first, 


41 

every  degree  of  brutal  severity  was  practised  to 
wards  both  of  them  ;  but,  afterwards,  this  severity 
was  relaxed.  The  two  prisoners  were  placed  near 
er  together,  where  they  could  communicate  ;  and 
their  trial  for  what,  in  Vienna,  was  magnified  into 
a  wide  and  alarming  conspiracy,  was  begun  with 
all  the  tedious  formalities,  that  could  be  prescribed 
by  Austrian  fear  and  caution.  How  it  would  have 
turned,  if  the\  had  been  left  entirely  unprotected, 
it  is  not  difficult  to  conjecture  ;  but  at  this  crisis 
of  their  fate,  they  were  secretly  assisted  by  Count 
Metrowsky,  a  nobleman  living  near  their  prison, 
whom  neither  of  them  had  ever  seen,  and  who 
was  interested  in  them,  only  for  what,  in  the  eyes 
of  his  government,  constituted  their  crime.  The 
means  he  used  to  influence  the  tribunal  that  judged 
them,  may  be  easily  imagined,  since  they  were 
so  far  successful,  that  the  prisoners,  after  having 
been  confined  for  trial  eight  months,  were  sentenced 
only  to  a  fortnight's  imprisonment  as  their  punish 
ment,  and  then  released.  A  few  hours  after  they 
had  left  Olmiitz,  an  order  came  from  Vienna 
directing  a  new  trial,  which  under  the  management 
of  the  ministers  would  of  course  have  ended  very 
differently  from  the  one  managed  by  Count  Me 
trowsky  ;  but  the  prisoners  were  already  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  Austrian  dominions. 
6 


42 

Lafayette,  in  the  meanwhile,  was  thrown  back 
into  his  obscure  and  ignominious  sufferings,  with 
hardly  a  hope  that  they  could  be  terminated,  ex 
cept  by  his  death.  During  the  winter  of  1794-5, 
he  was  reduced  to  almost  the  last  extremity 
by  a  violent  fever  ;  and  yet  was  deprived  of  proper 
attendance,  of  air,  of  suitable  food,  and  of  decent 
clothes.  To  increase  his  misery,  he  was  made  to 
believe,  that  he  was  only  reserved  for  a  public  ex 
ecution,  and  that  his  chivalrous  deliverers  would 
perish  on  the  scaffold  before  his  window  ;  while,  at 
the  same  time,  he  was  not  permitted  to  know 
whether  his  family  were  still  alive,  or  had  fallen 
under  the  revolutionary  axe,  of  which,  during  the 
few  days  he  was  out  of  his  dungeon,  he  had  heard 
such  appalling  accounts. 

Madame  de  Lafayette,  however,  was  nearer  to 
him  than  he  could  imagine  to  be  possible.  She 
had  been  released  from  prison,  where  she,  too,  had 
nearly  perished  ;*  and,  having  gained  strength 
sufficient  for  the  undertaking,  and  sent  her  eldest  son 
for  safety  to  the  care  of  General  Washington,  she 
set  out,  accompanied  by  her  two  young  daughters, 
for  Germany,  all  in  disguise,  and  with  American 

*  Her  grandmother,  the  Duchess  de  Noailles,  her  mother, 
the  Duchess  d'Ayen,  and  her  sister,  the  Countess  de  Noailles, 
all  perished  in  one  day  on  the  scaffold.  The  same  scaffold 
was  destined  for  Madame  de  Lafayette  ;  and  she  was  saved 
only  by  the  death  of  Robespierre. 


43 

passports.     They  were  landed  at  Altona,  and,  pro 
ceeding  immediately  to  Vienna,  obtained  an  audi 
ence  of  the  Emperor,  who  refused    to   liberate  La 
fayette,  but,  as  it  now  seems  probable,  against  the 
intentions  of  his  ministers  gave  them  permission  to 
join   him    in    his   prison.     They  went  instantly  to 
Olmiitz  ;  but    before  they  could  enter,  they  were 
deprived  of  whatever  they  had   brought  with  them 
to  alleviate  the  miseries  of  a  dungeon,  and  required, 
if  they  should   pass   its  threshold,  never  again   to 
leave  it.     Madame  de  Lafayette's  health  soon  sunk 
under  the  complicated  sufferings  and   privations  of 
her    loathsome    imprisonment,   and    she    wrote   to 
Vienna  for   permission  to  pass  a  week  in  the  capi 
tal,  to  breathe  purer  air  and  obtain  medical  assist 
ance.     Two   months   elapsed    before   any   answer 
was  returned  ;  and   then  she  was  told,  that  no  ob 
jection  would  be  made  to  her  leaving  her  husband  ; 
but  that,  if  she  should  do  so,  she  must  never  return 
to  him.      She  immediately  and  formally  signed  her 
consent   and  determination  "  to  share  his  captivity 
in  all  its  details  ;"   and  never  afterwards   made   an 
effort  to  leave    him.       Madame  de  Stael    has  well 
observed,  when  on  this  point  of  the  history  of  the 
French     Revolution  ; — "  antiquity    offers   nothing 
more  admirable,  than  the  conduct  of  General    La 
fayette,  his  wife,  and  his  daughters,  in  the  prison  of 
Olmiitz." 


44 

One  more  attempt  was  made  to  effect  the  lib 
eration  of  Lafayette,  and  it  was  made  in  the  place 
and  in  the  way,  that  might  have  been  expected. 
When  the  Emperor  of  Austria  refused  the  liberty 
of  her  husband  to  Madame  de  Lafayette,  he  told 
her  that  uhis  hands  were  tied."  In  this  remark, 
the  Emperor  could,  of  course,  allude  to  no  law  or 
constitution  of  his  empire,  and  therefore  his  hands 
could  be  tied  only  by  engagements  with  his  allies 
in  the  war  against  France.  England  was  one  of 
these  allies,  and  General  Fitzpatrick,  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  made  a  motion,  for  an  inquiry  into 
the  case,  in  which  he  was  supported  by  Colonel 
Tarlton,  who  had  fought  against  Lafayette  in 
Virginia.  Afterwards,  on  the  16th  of  December 
1796,  General  Fitzpatrick  renewed  his  attempt 
more  solemnly,  and  was  supported  in  it  by  Wilber- 
force,  by  Sheridan,  and  by  Fox,  in  one  of  his 
most  powerful  and  happy  speeches  ;  but  the 
motion  \vas  lost.  One  effect,  however,  unquestiona 
bly  followed  from  it : — a  solemn  and  vehement  dis 
cussion,  on  Lafayette's  imprisonment,  in  which 
the  Emperor  of  Austria  found  no  apologist,  had 
been  held  in  the  face  of  all  Europe  ;  and  all  Eu 
rope,  of  course,  W7as  informed  of  his  sufferings,  in 
the  most  solemn  and  authentic  way. 

When,  therefore,  General  Clarke  wras  sent  from 
Paris  to  join  Bonaparte  in   Italy,  and   negotiate  a 


45 

peace  with  the  Austrians,  it  was  understood,  that 
he  received  orders  from  the  Directory  to  stipulate 
for  the  deliverance  of  the  prisoners  in  Olmlitz, 
since  it  was  impossible  for  France  to  consent  to 
such  an  outrage  on  the  rights  of  citizenship,  as 
would  be  implied  by  their  further  detention.  On 
opening  the  negotiation,  an  attempt  was  made  on 
the  part  of  Austria,  to  compel  Lafayette  to  re 
ceive  his  freedom  on  conditions  prescribed  to  him  ; 
but  this  he  distinctly  refused  ;  and,  in  a  document 
that  has  often  been  published,  declared  with  a  firm 
ness,  which  wre  can  hardly  believe  would  have  sur 
vived  such  sufferings,  that  he  would  never  accept 
his  liberation  in  any  way,  that  should  compromise 
his  rights  and  duties,  either  as  a  Frenchman,  or  as 
an  American  citizen.  Bonaparte  often  said,  that, 
of  all  the  difficulties  in  this  protracted  nego 
tiation  with  the  Coalition,  the  greatest  was  the  de 
livery  of  Lafayette.  He  was,  however,  at  last  re 
leased  with  his  family  on  the  25th  of  August,  1797  ; 
Madame  de  Lafayette  and  her  daughters  having 
been  confined  twenty-two  months,  and  Lafayette 
himself  five  years,  in  a  disgraceful  spirit  of  vulgar 
cruelty  and  revenge,  of  which  modern  history  can 
afford,  we  trust,  very  few  examples.* 


*  Madame  de  Lafayette  never  entirely  recovered  from  it. 
Her  constitution  had  been   crushed   by  her  sufferings  ;    and 


46 

Franco  was  still  too  little  settled  to  promise 
peace  or  safety  to  Lafayette  arid  his  family.  They 
proceeded  first  to  Hamburg;  and  then,  after  causing 

though  she  lived  ten  years  afterwards,  she  never  had  the 
health  with  which  she  entered  the  dungeon  of  Olmiitz.  She 
died,  at  last,  at  La  Grange,  in  December  1807. 

During  Lafayette's  imprisonment,  our  own  government 
employed  such  means  as  were  in  its  power  for  his  release. 
The  American  ministers  at  the  European  Courts  were  instruct 
ed  to  use  their  exertions  to  this  end  ;  and  when  Washington 
found  that  no  success  was  to  be  hoped  from  this  quarter,  he 
wrote  a  letter  with  his  own  hand  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria, 
interceding  in  behalf  of  this  early  friend  of  American  liberty. 
The  letter  is  introduced  in  this  place,  as  reflecting  honor  on 
the  feelings  and  character  of  Washington,  and  as  expressing 
sentiments  not  more  deeply  cherished  by  him,  than  by  a  whole 
nation. 

"  It  will  readily  occur  to  your  majesty,  that  occasions  may 
sometimes  exist,  on  which  official  considerations  would  con 
strain  the  chief  of  a  nation  to  be  silent  and  passive,  in  rela 
tion  even  to  objects  which  affect  his  sensibility,  and  claim  his 
interposition  as  a  man.  Finding  myself  precisely  in  this  situa 
tion  at  present,  I  take  the  liberty  of  writing  this  private  letter 
to  your  majesty,  being  persuaded  that  my  motives  will  also  be 
jny  apology  for  it. 

"In  common  with  the  people  of  this  country.  I  retain  a 
strong  and  cordial  sense  of  the  services  rendered  to  them 
by  the  Marquis  de  Lafayette  ;  and  my  friendship  for  him  has 
been  constant  and  sincere.  It  is  natural,  therefore,  that  I 
should  sympathize  with  him  and  his  family  in  their  misfor 
tunes  ;  and  endeavor  to  mitigate  the  calamities  they  experience, 


47 


their  rights  both  as  French  and  American  citizens 
to  be  formally  recognised,  went  to  the  neighboring 
neutral  territories  of  Holstein,  where  they  lived 
in  retirement  and  tranquillity  about  a  year.  There 
they  were  joined  by  their  eldest  son,  who  came  to 
them  from  the  family  of  General  Washington  ; 
there,  too,  their  eldest  daughter  was  married  to  La- 
tour  Maubourg,  brother  of  the  person  who  had  shar 
ed  Lafayette's  captivity  ;  and  there  he  first  devot 
ed  himself  with  great  earnestness  to  those  agricul 
tural  pursuits,  which  have  since  constituted  the  oc 
cupation  and  the  happiness  of  his  life.  From  Hol- 


among  which   his  present   confinement  is   not  the   least  dis 
tressing. 

"  I  forbear  to  enlarge  on  this  delicate  subject.  Permit 
me  only  to  submit  to  your  majesty's  consideration,  whether 
his  long  imprisonment,  and  the  confiscation  of  his  estate,  and 
the  indigence  and  dispersion  of  his  family,  and  the  painful 
anxieties  incident  to  all  these  circumstances,  do  not  form  an 
assemblage  of  sufferings,  which  recommend  him  to  the  me 
diation  of  humanity  ?  Allow  me,  Sir,  on  this  occasion  to  be  its 
organ,  and  to  entreat  that  he  may  be  permitted  to  come  to 
this  country,  on  such  conditions  as  your  majesty  may  think  it 
expedient  to  prescribe. 

"  As  it  is  a  maxim  with  me  not  to  ask  what,  under  similar 
circumstances,  I  would  not  grant,  your  majesty  will  do  me  the 
justice  to  believe,  that  this  request  appears  to  me  to  corres 
pond  with  those  great  principles  of  magnanimity  and  wisdom, 
which  form  the  basis  of  sound  policy  and  durable  dory." 


48 

stein  he  went  at  the  formal  invitation  of  the  Ba- 
tavian  republic,  and  established  himself  for  several 
months  at  Utrecht  in  Holland,  where  he  was  treated 
with  great  consideration  and  kindness,  and  where 
he  had  the  advantage  of  being  nearer  to  the  borders 
of  his  own  country.  While  he  was  thus  living 
tranquil  and  happy,  but  anxiously  watching  the 
progress  of  events  in  France,  the  revolution  of  the 
18th  Brumaire,  November  10th,  1799,  happen 
ed,  and  promised  for  a  time  to  settle  the  govern 
ment  of  his  country  on  a  safer  foundation.  He 
immediately  returned  to  France,  and  established 
himself  at  La  Grange  ;  a  fine  old  castle,  surround 
ed  by  a  moderate  estate  about  forty  miles  from 
Paris,  where  he  has  lived  ever  since. 

When,  however,  Bonaparte,  to  whom  the  rev 
olution  of  the  18th  Brumaire  had  given  supreme 
control,  began  to  frame  his  constitution  and  organ 
ize  his  government,  Lafayette  perceived,  at  once, 
that  the  principles  of  freedom  would  not  be  per 
manently  respected.  He  had  several  interviews 
and  political  discussions  with  the  Consul,  and  was 
much  pressed  to  accept  the  place  of  Senator,  with 
its  accompanying  revenues,  in  the  new  order  of 
things  ;  but  he  refused,  determined  not  to  involve 
himself  in  changes,  which  he  already  foresaw  he 
should  not  approve.  In  1802,  Bonaparte  asked  to 
be  made  First  Consul  for  life  ;  Lafayette  voted 


49 

against  it,  entered  his  protest,  and  sent  a  letter  to 
Bonaparte  himself ;  and  from  this  moment  all  in 
tercourse  between  them  eeased.  Bonaparte  even 
went  so  far  as  to  refuse  to  promote  Lafayette's 
eldest  son,  and  his  son-in-law  Lasteyrie,  though 
they  distinguished  themselves  repeatedly  in  the 
army ;  and  once,  w7hen  a  report  of  the  services  of 
the  former  in  a  bulletin  was  offered  him,  he  eras 
ed  it  with  impatience,  saying,  "  These  Lafayettes 
cross  my  path  everywhere."  Discouraged,  there 
fore,  in  every  way  in  which  they  could  be  of 
service  to  their  country,  the  whole  family  was  at 
last  collected  at  La  Grange,  and  lived  there  in  the 
happiest  retirement,  so  long  as  the  despotism  of 
Bonaparte  lasted. 

The  restoration  of  the  Bourbons  in  1814  made 
no  change  in  Lafayette's  relations.  He  present 
ed  himself  once  at  court,  and  was  very  kindly  re 
ceived  ;  but  the  government  they  established  was 
so  different  from  the  representative  government, 
which  he  had  assisted  to  form,  and  sworn  to  sup 
port  in  1789,  that  he  did  not  again  present  himself 
at  the  palace.  The  Bourbons,  by  neglecting  en 
tirely  to  understand  or  conciliate  the  nation,  at  the 
end  of  a  year  brought  back  Bonaparte,  who  landed 
the  first  of  March,  1815,  and  reached  the  capital 
on  the  20th.  His  appearance  in  Paris  was  like  a 
theatrical  illusion,  and  his  policy  seemed  to  be  to 
7 


50 

play  all  men,  of  all   parties,  like  the  characters  of 
a  great  drama,  around  him.       Immediately  on  his 
arrival  upon  the   soil  of  France,   he  endeavored  to 
win  the  old  friends   of  French   freedom  ;   and    the 
same    day  that   he  made  his  irruption  into  the  an 
cient  palace  of  the  Thuilleries,  he  appointed  Car- 
not  his  minister   of  war,    and    Carnot    was   weak 
enough  to  accept  the  appointment  with  the  title  of 
Count.      In  a  similar  way,  he  endeavored   to  ob 
tain  the  countenance  and  cooperation  of  Lafayette. 
Joseph  Bonaparte,  to   whom    Lafayette  had  been 
personally  known,  and  for  whom  he    entertained  a 
personal  regard,  was  employed  by  the  Emperor  to 
consult  and  conciliate  him  ;    but  Lafayette   would 
hold  no  communion  with  the  new  order  of  things. 
He  even  refused,  though  most  pressingly  solicited, 
to  have  an  interview  with  the  Emperor  ;  and  end 
ed,    when  still  further  urged,  by  positively  declar 
ing,  that  he  could  never  meet  him,  unless  it  should 
be  as  a  representative  freely  chosen  by  the  people. 
On  the  22d  of  April,  Napoleon  offered  to  the 
French  nation  his  Acte  Additionel,  or  an  addition, 
as  he  chose  to  consider  it,  to  the   constitutions   of 
1799,    1802,  and    1804;  confirming  thereby  the 
principles    of    his   former    despotism,    but    estab 
lishing,  among  other  things,  an  hereditary  chamber 
of  peers,  and  an  elective  chamber  of  representatives. 
This  act  was  accepted,  or  pretended  to  be  accepted, 


51 

by  the  votes  of  the  French  people  ;  but  Lafayette 
entered  his  solemn  protest  against  it,  in  the  same 
spirit  with  which  he  had  protested  against  the  Con 
sulship  for  life.  The  very  college  of  Electors,  how 
ever,  who  received  his  protest,  unanimously  chose 
him  first  to  be  their  President,  and  afterwards  to  be 
their  Representative  ;  and  the  Emperor,  determined 
to  obtain  his  influence,  or  at  least  his  silence,  offered 
him  the  first  peerage  in  the  new  chamber  he  was 
forming.  Lafayette  was  as  true  to  his  principles, 
as  he  had  often  been  before,  under  more  difficult 
circumstances.  He  accepted  the  place  of  repre 
sentative,  and  declined  the  peerage. 

As  a  representative  of  the  people  he  saw  Bona 
parte,  for  the  first  time,  at  the  opening  of  the 
chambers,  on  the  7th  of  June.  "  It  is  above 
twelve  years  since  we  have  met,  General,"  said 
Napoleon,  with  great  kindness  of  manner,  when 
he  saw  Lafayette  ;  but  Lafayette  received  the 
Emperor  with  marked  distrust  ;  and  all  his  efforts 
were  directed,  as  he  then  happily  said  they  should 
be,  "  to  make  the  chamber,  of  which  he  was  a 
member,  a  representation  of  the  French  people, 
and  not  a  Napoleon  club."  Of  three  candidates 
for  the  presidency  of  the  chamber,  on  the  first  bal 
lot,  Lafayette  and  Lanjuinais  had  the  highest 
number  of  votes  ;  but  finding  that  the  Emperor 
had  declared  he  would  not  accept  Lanjuinais,  if  he 


52 

should  be  chosen,  Lafayette  used  great  exertions 
and  obtained  a  majority  for  him  ;  to  which  cir 
cumstances  compelled  Napoleon  to  submit.  From 
this  moment,  until  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo, 
which  happened  in  twelve  days,  Lafayette  did  not 
make  himself  prominent  in  the  chamber.  He 
voted  for  all  judicious  supplies,  on  the  ground  that 
France  was  invaded,  and  that  it  was  the  duty  of 
all  Frenchmen  to  defend  their  country  ;  but  he 
in  no  way  implicated  himself  in  Bonaparte's 
projects  or  fortunes,  with  which  it  was  impossible 
that  he  could  have  any  thing  in  common. 

At  last,  on  the  21st  of  June,  Bonaparte  arrived 
from  Waterloo,  a  defeated  and ,  desperate  man. 
He  was  already  determined  to  dissolve  the  repre 
sentative  body,  and,  assuming  the  whole  dictator 
ship  of  the  country,  play,  at  least,  one  deep  and 
bloody  game  for  power  and  success.  Some  of 
his  council,  and,  among  the  rest,  Regnault  de  St 
Jean  d'  Angely,  who  were  opposed  to  this  violent 
measure,  informed  Lafayette,  that  it  would  be 
taken  instantly,  and  that  in  two  hours  the  chamber 
of  representatives  would  cease  to  exist.  There 
was,  of  course,  not  a  moment  left  for  consultation 
or  advice  ;  the  Emperor,  or  the  chamber,  must  fall 
that  morning.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  session 
was  opened,  Lafayette,  with  the  same  clear  cour 
age  and  in  the  same  spirit  of  self-devotion,  with 


53 

which  he  had  stood  at  the  bar  of  the  National 
Assembly  in  1792,  immediately  ascended  the  Tri 
bune  for  the  first  time  for  twenty  years,  and  said 
these  few  words,  which  assuredly  would  have  been 
his  death  warrant,  if  he  had  not  been  supported  in 
them  by  the  assembly  he  addressed ;  "  When, 
after  an  interval  of  many  years,  I  raise  a  voice 
which  the  friends  of  free  institutions  will  still  re 
cognise,  I  feel  myself  called  upon  to  speak  to  you 
only  of  the  dangers  of  the  country,  which  you 
alone  have  now  the  power  to  save.  Sinister  inti 
mations  have  been  heard  ;  they  are  unfortunately 
confirmed.  This,  therefore,  is  the  moment  for  us 
to  gather  round  the  ancient  tricolored  standard  ; 
the  standard  of  '89  ;  the  standard  of  freedom,  of 
equal  rights,  and  of  public  order.  Permit  then, 
gentlemen,  a  veteran  in  this  sacred  cause,  one  who 
has  always  been  a  stranger  to  the  spirit  of  faction, 
to  offer  you  a  few  preparatory  resolutions,  whose 
absolute  necessity,  I  trust,  you  will  feel,  as  I  do." 
These  resolutions  declared  the  chamber  to  be  in 
permanent  session,  and  all  attempts  to  dissolve  it, 
high  treason  ;  and  they  also  called  for  the  four 
principal  ministers  to  come  to  the  chamber,  and 
explain  the  state  of  affairs.  Bonaparte  is  said  to 
have  been  much  agitated,  when  word  was  brought 
him  simply  that  Lafayette  was  in  the  tribune  ;  and 
his  fears  were  certainly  not  ill  founded,  for  these 


54 

resolutions,  which  were  at  once  adopted,  both  by 
the  representatives  and  the  peers,  substantially 
divested  him  of  his  power,  and  left  him  merely  a 
factious  and  dangerous  individual  in  the  midst  of 
a  distracted  state. 

He   hesitated  during  the  whole  day,  as  to  the 
course  he  should  pursue  ;  but,  at  last,  hoping  that 
the  eloquence  of  Lucien,   which  had  saved  him  on 
the  18th  Brumaire,  might  be  found  no  less  effectual 
now,    he  sent   him  with    the  three  other  ministers 
to  the  chamber,  just  at  the  beginning  of  the  even 
ing  ;  having  first  obtained  a  vote,  that  all   should 
pass   in  secret   session.     It   was   certainly  a  most 
perilous  crisis.     Reports  were  abroad  that  the  pop 
ulace    of  the    Fauxbourgs   had    been  excited,  and 
were   arming  themselves.      It  was   believed,   too, 
with   no   little  probability,   that   Bonaparte  would 
march   against  the    chamber,  as   he  had   formerly 
marched  against  the  council  of  Five  Hundred,  and 
disperse  them  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.     At  all 
events,  it  was  a  contest  for  existence,  and  no  man 
could  feel  his   life  safe.     At   this  moment,  Lucien 
rose,  and  in  the  doubtful  and   gloomy  light,  which 
two  vast  torches   shed  through  the    hall  arid    over 
the   pale    and   anxious   features   of  the    members, 
made   a  partial    exposition  of  the  state  of  affairs, 
and   the  projects    and    hopes    he  still  entertained. 
A  deep  and   painful   silence  followed.     At  length 


53 

Mr  Jay,  well  known  above  twenty  years  ago  in 
Boston,  under  the  assumed  name  of  Renaud,  as  a 
teacher  of  the  French  Language,  and  an  able  wri 
ter  in  one  of  the  public  newspapers  of  that  city, 
ascended  the  Tribune,  and,  in  a  long  and  vehe 
ment  speech  of  great  eloquence,  exposed  the  dan 
gers  of  the  country,  and  ended  by  proposing  to 
send  a  deputation  to  the  Emperor,  demanding  his 
abdication.  Lucien  immediately  followed.  He 
never  showed  more  power,  or  a  more  impassioned 
eloquence.  His  purpose  was  to  prove,  that  France 
was  still  devoted  to  the  Emperor,  and  that  its 
resources  were  still  equal  to  a  contest  with  the 
allies.  "  It  is  not  Napoleon,"  he  cried,  "  that  is 
attacked,  it  is  the  French  people.  And  a  propo 
sition  is  now  made  to  this  people,  to  abandon  their 
Emperor  ;  to  expose  the  French  nation,  before  the 
tribunal  of  the  world,  to  a  severe  judgment  on  its 
levity  and  inconstancy.  No,  sir,  the  honor  of 
this  nation  shall  never  be  so  compromised  !"  On 
hearing  these  words,  Lafayette  rose.  He  did  not 
go  to  the  tribune  ;  but  spoke,  contrary  to  rule  and 
custom,  from  his  place.  His  manner  was  perfect 
ly  calm,  but  marked  with  the  very  spirit  of  re 
buke;  and  he  addressed  himself,  not  to  the  Presi 
dent,  but  directly  to  Lucien.  "  The  assertion, 
which  has  just  been  uttered,  is  a  calumny.  Who 
shall  dare  to  accuse  the  French  nation  of  incon- 


56 

stancy  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon  ?  That  nation 
has  followed  his  bloody  footsteps  through  the 
sands  of  Egypt  and  through  the  wastes  of  Rus 
sia  ;  over  fifty  fields  of  battle ;  in  disaster  as 
faithfully  as  in  victory  ;  and  it  is  for  having  thus 
devotedly  followed  him,  that  we  IIOWT  mourn  the 
blood  of  three  millions  of  Frenchmen."  These 
few  words  made  an  impression  on  the  Assembly, 
which  could  not  be  mistaken  or  resisted  ;  and,  as 
Lafayette  ended,  Lucien  himself  bowed  respect 
fully  to  him,  and,  without  resuming  his  speech, 
sat  down. 

It  was  determined  to  appoint  a  deputation  of  five 
members  from  each  chamber,  to  meet  the  grand 
council  of  the  ministers,  and  deliberate  in  committee, 
on  the  measures  to  be  taken.  This  body  sat  dur 
ing  the  night,  under  the  presidency  of  Cambaceres, 
Arch  Chancellor  of  the  empire.  The  first  thing 
that  was  done  in  this  committee  was  to  devise  and 
arrange  every  possible  means  of  resisting  the  in 
vasion  of  the  allies  and  the  Bourbons  ;  and  La 
fayette  was  foremost  in  giving  the  Government, 
for  this  purpose,  every  thing  that  could  be  asked. 
But  it  was  apparent,  from  the  representations 
of  the  ministers  themselves,  that  they  could 
carry  on  the  war  no  longer.  Lafayette  then 
moved  that  a  deputation  should  be  sent  to  Napo 
leon,  demanding  his  abdication.  The  Arch  Chan- 


57 

cellor  refused  to  put  the  motion  ;  but  it  was  as 
much  decided,  as  if  it  had  been  formally  carried. 
The  next  morning,  June  22d,  the  Emperor  sent 
in  his  abdication,  and  Lafayette  was  on  the  com 
mittee  that  went  to  the  Thuilleries  to  thank  him 
for  it,  on  behalf  of  the  nation. 

It  had  been  the  intention  of  a  majority  of  both 
chambers,   from   the  moment  of  their  convocation, 
to  form  a  free   constitution  for  the  country,  and  to 
call  the  whole  people  to  arms  to  resist  the  invasion. 
In    both  of  these  great   purposes,  they  had  been 
constantly  opposed   by  Bonaparte,  and    in  the  few 
hurried  and  anxious  days  that  preceded  the  battle 
of  Waterloo,  there  had  been  time  to  do  very  little. 
There  was  now  nothing  but  confusion.     A  project 
was   arranged   to  place    Lafayette  at   the  head  of 
affairs ;  because  it  was  known  that  he  could  carry 
with  him  the  confidence  of  the  nation,  and  especial 
ly   that  of  the  National  Guards,  whom   he  would 
immediately   have  called  out   en  masse.      But  a 
scene  of  most  unworthy  intrigues  was  immediately 
begun.        A    crude,   provisional    government    was 
established,  with  the  infamous  Fouche,  as  its  Pres 
ident,   which  lasted  only  a  few  days,  and   whose 
principal  measure  was  the  sending  of  a  deputation 
to  the  allied  powers,  of  which  Lafayette  was  the 
head,  to  endeavor  to  stop  the  invasion  of  France. 

This  of  course  failed,  as  had  been  foreseen  ;  Paris 
8 


.58 

surrendered  on  the  3d  of  July,  and  what  remained 
of  the  representative  government,  which  Bonaparte 
had  created  for  his  own  purposes,  but  which  La 
fayette  had  turned  against  him,  was  soon  after- 
\vards  dissolved.  Its  doors  were  found  guarded  on 
the  morning  of  the  8th,  but  by  what  authority  has 
never  been  known  ;  and  the  members  met  at  La 
fayette's  house,  entered  their  formal  protest,  and 
went  quietly  to  their  own  homes. 

Lafayette   retired  immediately   to  La  Grange, 
from   which,   in   fact,  he   had  been  only  a   month 
absent,  and   resumed  at  once   his  agricultural    em 
ployments.       There,  in    the    midst  of  a  family   of 
twenty  children  and  grand  children,  who  all  look 
up  to  him   as  their   patriarchal  chief,  he  lives  in  a 
simple   and    sincere    happiness    rarely   granted    to 
those,  who  have   borne  such   a  leading  part  in  the 
troubles  and  sufferings  of  a  great  period  of  political 
revolution.     Since  1817  he  has  been  twice  elected  to 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and   in  all  his  votes  has 
shown   himself  constant  to  his   ancient  principles. 
When  the  ministry  proposed  to  establish  a  censor 
ship   of  the    press,   he   resisted   them    in    an    able 
speech ;   but    Lafayette  was  never  a  factious  man, 
and   therefore     he    has    never    made    any   further 
opposition  to  the  present  order  of  things  in  France, 
than  his  conscience  and    his  official  place  required. 
That  he  does  not   approve  the  present  constitution 


59 

of  the  monarchy,  or  the  political  principles  and 
management  of  the  existing  government,  his  votes 
as  a  deputy,  and  his  whole  life,  plainly  show  ; 
and  that  his  steady  and  temperate  opposition  is 
matter  of  serious  anxiety  to  the  family  now  on  the 
throne  is  apparent,  from  their  conduct  towards  him 
during  the  last  nine  years,  and  their  management 
of  the  public  press  since  he  has  been  in  this  coun 
try.  If  he  chose  to  make  himself  a  Tribune  of 
the  people,  he  might  at  any  moment  become 
formidable  ;  but  he  trusts  rather  to  the  progress  of 
general  intelligence  and  political  wisdom  through 
out  the  nation,  which  he  feels  sure  will,  at  last, 
bring  his  country  to  the  practically  free  govern 
ment,  he  has  always  been  ready  to  sacrifice  his 
life  to  purchase  for  it.  To  this  great  result  he 
looks  forward,  as  Madame  de  Stael  has  well  said 
of  him,  with  the  entire  confidence  a  pious  man 
enjoys  in  a  future  life  ;  but,  when  he  feels  anxious 
and  impatient  to  hasten  onward  to  it,  he  finds  a 
wisdom  tempered  by  long  experience  stirring  with 
in  him,  which  warns  him,  in  the  beautiful  language 
of  Milton,  that  "  they  also  serve  who  only  stand 
and  wait." 

This  is  the  distinguished  personage,  who,  after 
an  absence  of  eight  and  thirty  years,  is  now  come 
to  visit  the  nation,  for  whose  independence  and 
freedom  he  hazarded  whatever  is  most  valued  in 


GO 

human  estimation,  almost  half  a  century  ago.  He 
comes,  too,  at  the  express  invitation  of  the  entire 
people  ;  he  is  literally  the  "  Guest  of  the  Nation  ;" 
but  the  guest,  it  should  be  remembered,  of  another 
generation,  than  the  one  he  originally  came  to 
serve.  We  rejoice  at  it.  We  rejoice,  in  com 
mon  with  the  thousands  who  throng  his  steps  wher 
ever  he  passes,  that  we  are  permitted  to  offer  this 
tribute  of  a  gratitude  and  veneration,  which  can 
not  be  misinterpreted,  to  one,  who  suffered  with 
our  fathers  for  our  sake  ;  but  we  rejoice  yet  more 
for  the  moral  effect  it  cannot  fail  to  produce  on  us, 
both  as  individuals  and  as  a  people.  For  it  is  no 
common  spectacle,  which  is  now  placed  before 
each  of  us  for  our  instruction.  We  are  permitted 
to  see  one,  who,  by  the  mere  force  of  principle, 
by  plain  and  resolved  integrity,  has  passed  with 
perfect  consistency,  through  more  remarkable  ex 
tremes  of  fortune,  than  any  man  now  alive,  or,  per 
haps,  any  man  on  record.  We  are  permitted  to 
see  one  who  has  borne  a  leading  and  controlling 
part  in  two  hemispheres,  and  in  the  two  most  im 
portant  revolutions  the  world  has  yet  seen,  and  has 
come  forth  from  both  of  them  without  the  touch 
of  dishonor.  We  are  permitted  to  see  that  man, 
who  first  put  in  jeopardy  his  rank  and  fortune  at 
home,  in  order  to  serve  as  a  volunteer  in  the 
cause  of  Free  Institutions  in  America,  and  after- 


61 

wards  hazarded  his  life  at  the  bar  of  the  National 
Assembly,  to  arrest  the  same  cause,  when  it  was 
tending  to  excess  and  violence.  We  are  permitted 
to  see  the  man,  who,  after  three  years  of  unbroken 
political  triumph,  stood  in  the  midst  of  half  a  mil 
lion  of  his  countrymen,  comprehending  whatever 
was  great,  wise,  and  powerful  in  the  nation,  with 
the  oriflamme  of  the  monarchy  at  his  feet,  and  the 
confidence  of  all  France  following  his  words,  as  he 
swore  on  their  behalf  to  a  free  constitution  ;  and 
yet  remained  undazzled  and  unseduced  by  his  vast, 
his  irresistible  popularity.  We  are  permitted  to 
see  the  man,  who,  for  the  sake  of  the  same  prin 
ciples  to  which  he  had  thus  sworn,  and  in  less  than 
three  years  afterwards,  was  condemned  to  such  ob 
scure  sufferings,  that  his  very  existence  became 
doubtful  to  the  world,  and  the  place  of  his  confine 
ment  was  effectually  hidden  from  the  inquiries  of 
his  friends,  who  sent  emissaries  over  half  Europe 
to  discover  it ;  and  yet  remained  unshaken  and 
undismayed,  constantly  refusing  all  appearance  of 
compromise  with  his  persecutors  and  oppressors. 
We  are,  in  short,  permitted  to  see  a  man,  who 
has  professed,  amidst  glory  and  suffering,  in  tri 
umph  and  in  disgrace,  the  same  principles  of 
political  freedom  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  ; 
who  has  maintained  the  same  tone,  the  same  air, 
the  same  open  confidence,  amidst  the  ruins  of  the 


62 

Bastille,  in  the  Champ  de  Mars,  under  the  despot 
ism  of  Bonaparte,  and  in  the  dungeons  of  Olmiitz. 
We  rejoice,  too,  no  less  in  the  effect  which  this 
visit  of  General  Lafayette  is  producing  upon  us  as 
a  nation.  It  is  doing  much  to  unite  us.  It  has 
brought  those  together,  who  have  been  separated 
by  long  lives  of  political  animosity.  It  helps  to 
break  down  the  great  boundaries  and  landmarks  of 
party.  It  makes  a  holiday  of  kind  and  generous 
feelings  in  the  hearts  of  the  multitudes  that  throng 
his  way,  as  he  moves  in  triumphal  procession  from 
city  to  city.  It  turns  this  whole  people  from  the 
bustle  and  divisions  of  our  wearisome  elections,  the 
contests  of  the  senatehouse,  and  the  troubles  and 
bitterness  of  our  manifold  political  dissensions  ;  and 
instead  of  all  this,  carries  us  back  to  that  great 
period  in  our  history,  about  which  opinions  have 
long  been  tranquil  and  settled.  It  offers  to  us,  as 
it  were,  with  the  very  costume  arid  air  appropriate 
to  the  times,  one  of  the  great  actors,  from  this  most 
solemn  passage  in  our  national  destinies  ;  and  thus 
enables  us  to  transmit  yet  one  generation  further 
onward,  a  sensible  impression  of  the  times  of  our 
fathers ;  since  we  are  not  only  permitted  to  wit 
ness  ourselves  one  of  their  foremost  leaders  and 
champions,  but  can  show  him  to  our  children,  and 
thus  leave  in  their  young  hearts  an  impression, 
which  will  grow  old  there  with  their  deepest  and 


63 

purest  feelings.  It  brings,  in  fact,  our  revolution 
nearer  to  us,  with  all  the  higlmrinded  patriotism 
and  selfdenying  virtues  of  our  forefathers  ;  and 
therefore  naturally  turns  our  thoughts  more  towards 
our  posterity,  and  makes  us  more  anxious  to  do  for 
them  what  we  are  so  sensibly  reminded  was  done 
with  such  perilous  sacrifices  for  us. 

We  may  be  allowed,  too,  to  add,  that  we  re 
joice  in  General  Lafayette's  visit  on  his  own  ac 
count.  He  enjoys  a  singular  distinction  ;  for  it  is 
a  strange  thing  in  the  providence  of  God,  one  that 
never  happened  before,  and  will,  probably,  never 
happen  again,  that  an  individual  from  a  remote 
quarter  of  the  world,  having  assisted  to  lay  the  foun 
dation  of  a  great  nation,  should  be  permitted  thus 
to  visit  the  posterity  of  those  he  served,  and  wit 
ness  on  a  scale  so  vast,  the  work  of  his  own  sacri 
fices  ;  the  result  of  grand  principles  in  government 
for  which  he  contended  before  their  practical  effect 
had  been  tried  ;  the  growth  and  maturity  of  institu 
tions,  which  he  assisted  to  establish,  when  their 
operation  could  be  calculated  only  by  the  widest 
and  most  clearsighted  circumspection.  We  rejoice 
in  it,  for  it  is,  \ve  doubt  not,  the  most  gratifying 
and  appropriate  reward,  that  could  be  offered  to  a 
spirit  lite  his.  In  the  beautiful  phrase  which  Taci 
tus  has  applied  to  Germanicus,  fruitur  famd  ;  for 
he  must  be  aware,  that  the  ocean  which  rolls  be- 


64 

tween  us  and  Europe,  operates  like  the  grave  on  all 
feelings  of  passion  and  party,  and  that  the  voice  of 
gratitude  and  admiration,  which  now  rises  to  greet 
him,  from  every  city,  every  village,  and  every 
heart,  of  this  wide  land,  is  as  pure  and  sincere  as 
the  voice  of  posterity. 


OF  THB 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


LD 


RECD 


.IAN     41956<35 


0  -66  -10  m 


29  1929 


VB  37369 


